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PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


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Purchased  by  the  Hamlll  Missionary  Fund, 


Division 


Section 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/inghostlyjapanOOhear 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


The  Mountain  of  Skulls 


IN 

GHOSTLY  JAPAN 


By  LAFCADIO  HEARN 

LECTURER  ON  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
IN  THE  IMPERIAL  UNIVERSITY.  TOKYO 


AUTHOR  OF  "EXOTICS  AND  RETRO- 
SPECTIVES," " OUT  OF  THE  EAST,”  &c- 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 


n D cccc 


Copyright,  i8gg. 

By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company 

All  rights  reserved 


Qniutrsitg  13rrss 

John  Wilson  And  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.  a. 


TO 

MRS.  ALICE  VON  BEHRENS 

i?ot  Xulb  Eano  ;g)pne 

¥ 


IN  GHOSTLY  JAPAN 

Yoru  bakari 
Miru  mono  nari  to 
Omou-nayo  I 
Hiru  sag  yumg  no 
Ukiyo  nari-kgri. 

Think  not  that  dreams  appear  to  the  dreamer 
only  at  night : the  dream  of  this  world  of  pain 
appears  to  us  even  hy  day. 


Japanese  Poem. 


r. ! J 


Contents 


PAGE 

Fragment 3 

Furisode 11 

Incense 19 

A Story  of  Divination 49 

Silkworms 59 

A Passional  Karma 73 

Footprints  of  the  Buddha 117 

Uluution 133 

Bits  of  Poetry 149 

Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs 167 

Suggestion i97 

INGWA-BANASHI 205 

Story  of  a Tengu 215 

At  Yaidzu 225 


List  of  Illustrations 

full 

The  Mountain  of  Skulls Frontispiece 

The  Magical  Incense To  face  page  43 

The  Peony  Lantern „ 80 

The  Lights  of  the  Dead ,,230 


SFlluBtrations  in  t|)e  Cejrt 

S’rTpada-tracing  at  Dentsu-In,  Koishikawa,  Tokyo  121 


Sho-Ek6-H6-Kwan 124 

Square  and  Triangle i64 

Jizo 178 

Eaiaia  Dai-o 179 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


vl«^ 


^4'' 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

Fragment 


AND  it  was  at  the  hour  of  sunset  that  they 
A-A  came  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  There 
was  in  that  place  no  sign  of  life,  — neither 
token  of  water,  nor  trace  of  plant,  nor  shadow 
of  flying  bird,  — nothing  but  desolation  rising  to 
desolation.  And  the  summit  was  lost  in  heaven. 

Then  the  Bodhisattva  said  to  his  young  com- 
panion : — “ What  you  have  asked  to  see  will 
be  shown  to  you.  But  the  place  of  the  Vision  is 
far ; and  the  way  is  rude.  Follow  after  me,  and 
do  not  fear ; strength  will  be  given  you.” 

Twilight  gloomed  about  them  as  they  climbed. 
There  was  no  beaten  path,  nor  any  mark  of  for- 
mer human  visitation ; and  the  way  was  over  an 
endless  heaping  of  tumbled  fragments  that  rolled 


4 In  Ghostly  Japan 

or  turned  beneath  the  foot.  Sometimes  a mass 
dislodged  would  clatter  down  with  hollow  echo- 
ings; — sometimes  the  substance  trodden  would 
burst  like  an  empty  shell.  . . . Stars  pointed 
and  thrilled  ; — and  the  darkness  deepened. 

“ Do  not  fear,  my  son,”  said  the  Bodhisattva, 
guiding : “ danger  there  is  none,  though  the  way 
be  grim.” 

Under  the  stars  they  climbed,  — fast,  fast,  — 
mounting  by  help  of  power  superhuman.  High 
zones  of  mist  they  passed ; and  they  saw  below 
them,  ever  widening  as  they  climbed,  a soundless 
flood  of  cloud,  like  the  tide  of  a milky  sea. 

Hour  after  hour  they  climbed;  — and  forms 
invisible  yielded  to  their  tread  with  dull  soft 
crashings  ; — and  faint  cold  fires  lighted  and  died 
at  every  breaking. 

And  once  the  pilgrim -youth  laid  hand  on  a 
something  smooth  that  was  not  stone,  — and  lifted 
it,  — and  dimly  saw  the  cheekless  gibe  of  death. 

“ Linger  not  thus,  my  son  ! ” urged  the  voice 
of  the  teacher ; — “the  summit  that  we  must 
gain  is  very  far  away ! ” 

On  through  the  dark  they  climbed,  — and  felt 
continually  beneath  them  the  soft  strange  break- 


Fragment  ^ 

ings,  — and  saw  the  icy  fires  worm  and  die,  — till 
the  rim  of  the  night  turned  grey,  and  the  stars 
began  to  fail,  and  the  east  began  to  bloom. 

Yet  still  they  climbed,  — fast,  fast,  — mounting 
by  help  of  power  superhuman.  About  them  now 
was  frigidness  of  death,  — and  silence  tremendous. 
...  A gold  flame  kindled  in  the  east. 

Then  first  to  the  pilgrim’s  gaze  the  steeps  re- 
vealed their  nakedness  ; — and  a trembling  seized 
him,  — and  a ghastly  fear.  For  there  was  not 
any  ground,  — neither  beneath  him  nor  about  him 
nor  above  him,  — but  a heaping  only,  monstrous 
and  measureless,  of  skulls  and  fragments  of  skulls 
and  dust  of  bone,  — with  a shimmer  of  shed  teeth 
strown  through  the  drift  of  it,  like  the  shimmer 
of  scrags  of  shell  in  the  wrack  of  a tide. 

“ Do  not  fear,  my  son  ! ” cried  the  voice  of  the 
Bodhisattva ; — “ only  the  strong  of  heart  can  win 
to  the  place  of  the  Vision  ! ” 

Behind  them  the  world  had  vanished.  Nothing 
remained  but  the  clouds  beneath,  and  the  sky 
above,  and  the  heaping  of  skulls  between,  — up- 
slanting  out  of  sight. 

Then  the  sun  climbed  with  the  climbers ; and 
there  was  no  warmth  in  the  light  of  him,  but 


6 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

coldness  sharp  as  a sword.  And  the  horror  of 
stupendous  height,  and  the  nightmare  of  stupen- 
dous depth,  and  the  terror  of  silence,  ever  grew 
and  grew,  and  weighed  upon  the  pilgrim,  and  held 
his  feet, — so  that  suddenly  all  power  departed 
from  him,  and  he  moaned  like  a sleeper  in  dreams. 

“ Hasten,  hasten,  my  son ! ” cried  the  Bodhi- 
sattva : “the  day  is  brief,  and  the  summit  is  very 
far  away.” 

But  the  pilgrim  shrieked,  — 

“ 1 fear ! 1 fear  unspeakably ! — and  the  power 
has  departed  from  me ! ” 

“ The  power  will  return,  my  son,”  made  answer 
the  Bodhisattva.  . . . “ Look  now  below  you  and 
above  you  and  about  you,  and  tell  me  what  you 
see.” 

“ 1 cannot,”  cried  the  pilgrim,  trembling  and 
clinging ; — “1  dare  not  look  beneath  ! Before 
me  and  about  me  there  is  nothing  but  skulls  of 
men.” 

“ And  yet,  my  son,”  said  the  Bodhisattva, 
laughing  softly,  — “and  yet  you  do  not  know 
of  what  this  mountain  is  made.” 

The  other,  shuddering,  repeated : — 

“ 1 fear ! — unutterably  1 fear ! . . . there  is 
nothing  but  skulls  of  men ! ” 


Frag^nent  7 

“A  mountain  of  skulls  it  is,”  responded  the 
Bodhisattva.  “ But  know,  my  son,  that  all  of 
them  ARE  YOUR  OWN ! Each  has  at  some 
time  been  the  nest  of  your  dreams  and  delusions 
and  desires.  Not  even  one  of  them  is  the  skull  of 
any  other  being.  AH, — all  without  exception,  — 
have  been  yours,  in  the  billions  of  your  former 
lives.” 


Furisode 


Furisode 

Recently,  while  passing  through  a little 
street  tenanted  chiefly  by  dealers  in  old 
wares,  I noticed  a furisode,  or  long- 
sleeved  robe,  of  the  rich  purple  tint  called  mu- 
rasaki,  hanging  before  one  of  the  shops.  It  was 
a robe  such  as  might  have  been  worn  by  a lady 
of  rank  in  the  time  of  the  Tokugawa.  I stopped 
to  look  at  the  five  crests  upon  it;  and  in  the 
same  moment  there  came  to  my  recollection  this 
legend  of  a similar  robe  said  to  have  once  caused 
the  destruction  of  Yedo. 

Nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  the 
daughter  of  a rich  merchant  of  the  city  of  the 
Shoguns,  while  attending  some  temple -festival, 
perceived  in  the  crowd  a young  samurai  of  re- 
markable beauty,  and  immediately  fell  in  love 
with  him.  Unhappily  for  her,  he  disappeared  in 
the  press  before  she  could  learn  through  her  at- 
tendants who  he  was  or  whence  he  had  come. 


12 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

But  his  image  remained  vivid  in  her  memory, — 
even  to  the  least  detail  of  his  costume.  The  holi- 
day attire  then  worn  by  samurai  youths  was 
scarcely  less  brilliant  than  that  of  young  girls; 
and  the  upper  dress  of  this  handsome  stranger 
had  seemed  wonderfully  beautiful  to  the  en- 
amoured maiden.  She  fancied  that  by  wearing 
a robe  of  like  quality  and  color,  bearing  the  same 
crest,  she  might  be  able  to  attract  his  notice  on 
some  future  occasion. 

Accordingly  she  had  such  a robe  made,  with 
very  long  sleeves,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
period;  and  she  prized  it  greatly.  She  wore  it 
whenever  she  went  out ; and  when  at  home  she 
would  suspend  it  in  her  room,  and  try  to  imagine  the 
form  of  her  unknown  beloved  within  it.  Some- 
times she  would  pass  hours  before  it,  — dreaming 
and  weeping  by  turns.  And  she  would  pray  to 
the  gods  and  the  Buddhas  that  she  might  win  the 
young  man’s  affection,  — often  repeating  the  in- 
vocation of  the  Nichiren  sect : Namu  myd  ho 
renge  hyd  I 

But  she  never  saw  the  youth  again ; and  she 
pined  with  longing  for  him,  and  sickened,  and 
died,  and  was  buried.  After  her  burial,  the  long- 
sleeved  robe  that  she  had  so  much  prized  was 


Furisode 


13 


given  to  the  Buddhist  temple  of  which  her  family 
were  parishioners.  It  is  an  old  custom  to  thus 
dispose  of  the  garments  of  the  dead. 

The  priest  was  able  to  sell  the  robe  at  a good 
price ; for  it  was  a costly  silk,  and  bore  no  trace  of 
the  tears  that  had  fallen  upon  it.  It  was  bought 
by  a girl  of  about  the  same  age  as  the  dead  lady. 
She  wore  it  only  one  day.  Then  she  fell  sick,  and 
began  to  act  strangely,  — crying  out  that  she  was 
haunted  by  the  vision  of  a beautiful  young  man, 
and  that  for  love  of  him  she  was  going  to  die. 
And  within  a little  while  she  died  ; and  the  long- 
sleeved  robe  was  a second  time  presented  to  the 
temple. 

Again  the  priest  sold  it ; and  again  it  became 
the  property  of  a young  girl,  who  wore  it  only 
once.  Then  she  also  sickened,  and  talked  of  a 
beautiful  shadow,  and  died,  and  was  buried.  And 
the  robe  was  given  a third  time  to  the  temple ; 
and  the  priest  wondered  and  doubted. 

Nevertheless  he  ventured  to  sell  the  luckless 
garment  once  more.  Once  more  it  was  pur- 
chased by  a girl  and  once  more  worn ; and  the 
wearer  pined  and  died.  And  the  robe  was  given 
a fourth  time  to  the  temple. 

Then  the  priest  felt  sure  that  there  was  some 


14 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

evil  influence  at  work ; and  he  told  his  acolytes  to 
make  a fire  in  the  temple-court,  and  to  bum  the 
robe. 

So  they  made  a fire,  into  which  the  robe  was 
thrown.  But  as  the  silk  began  to  bum,  there 
suddenly  appeared  upon  it  dazzling  characters  of 
flame,  — the  characters  of  the  invocation,  Namu 
myo  ho  renge  hyd ; — and  these,  one  by  one, 
leaped  like  great  sparks  to  the  temple  roof ; and 
the  temple  took  fire. 

Embers  from  the  burning  temple  presently 
dropped  upon  neighbouring  roofs ; and  the  whole 
street  was  soon  ablaze.  Then  a sea-wind,  rising, 
blew  destruction  into  further  streets ; and  the  con- 
flagration spread  from  street  to  street,  and  from 
district  into  district,  till  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
city  was  consumed.  And  this  calamity,  which 
occurred  upon  the  eighteenth  day  of  the  first 
month  of  the  first  year  of  Meireki  (1655),  is  still 
remembered  in  Tokyo  as  the  Furisode-Kwaji,  — 
the  Great  Fire  of  the  Long-sleeved  Robe. 

According  to  a story-book  called  Kibun-Daijin, 
the  name  of  the  girl  who  caused  the  robe  to  be 
made  was  O-Same ; and  she  was  the  daughter  of 
Hikoy6mon,  a wine-merchant  of  Hyakusho-machi, 


Furisode 


in  the  district  of  Azabu.  Because  of  her  beauty 
she  was  also  called  Azabu-Komachi,  or  the  Komachi 
of  Azabu.^  The  same  book  says  that  the  temple 
of  the  tradition  was  a Nichiren  temple  called  Hon- 
myoji,  in  the  district  of  Hongo ; and  that  the  crest 
upon  the  robe  was  a kiky^-^[o^vtx.  But  there  are 
many  different  versions  of  the  story ; and  1 dis- 
trust the  Kibiin-Daijin  because  it  asserts  that  the 
beautiful  samurai  was  not  really  a man,  but  a 
transformed  dragon,  or  water-serpent,  that  used  to 
inhabit  the  lake  at  Uyeno,  — Shinobaiti-no-Ike. 

1 After  more  than  a thousand  years,  the  name  of  Komachi, 
or  Ono-no-Komachi,  is  still  celebrated  in  Japan.  She  was 
the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her  time,  and  so  great  a poet 
that  she  could  move  heaven  by  her  verses,  and  cause 
rain  to  fall  in  time  of  drought.  Many  men  loved  her  in 
vain  ; and  many  are  said  to  have  died  for  love  of  her.  But 
misfortunes  visited  her  when  her  youth  had  passed ; and, 
after  having  been  reduced  to  the  uttermost  want,  she  be- 
came a beggar,  and  died  at  last  upon  the  public  highway, 
near  Kyoto.  As  it  was  thought  shameful  to  bury  her  in  the 
foul  rags  found  upon  her,  some  poor  person  gave  a worn- 
out  summer-robe  (katabira)  to  wrap  her  body  in;  and  she 
was  interred  near  Arashiyama  at  a spot  still  pointed  out 
to  travellers  as  the  “ Place  of  the  Katabira  ” {Katabira-no- 
Tsucbi). 


Incense 


Incense 


1 

I SEE,  rising  out  of  darkness,  a lotos  in  a vase. 
Most  of  the  vase  is  invisible ; but  1 know 
that  it  is  of  bronze,  and  that  its  glimpsing 
handles  are  bodies  of  dragons.  Only  the  lotos  is 
fully  illuminated : three  pure  white  flowers,  and 
five  great  leaves  of  gold  and  green,  — gold  above, 
green  on  the  upcurling  under-surface, — an  arti- 
ficial lotos.  It  is  bathed  by  a slanting  stream  of 
sunshine  ; — the  darkness  beneath  and  beyond  is 
the  dusk  of  a temple-chamber.  1 do  not  see  the 
opening  through  which  the  radiance  pours  ; but  1 
am  aware  that  it  is  a small  window  shaped  in  the 
outline-form  of  a temple-bell. 

The  reason  that  1 see  the  lotos  — one  memory 
of  my  first  visit  to  a Buddhist  sanctuary  — is  that 
there  has  come  to  me  an  odor  of  incense.  Often 
when  1 smell  incense,  this  vision  defines;  and 
usually  thereafter  other  sensations  of  my  first  day 


20 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

in  Japan  revive  in  swift  succession  with  almost 
painful  acuteness. 

It  is  almost  ubiquitous,  — this  perfume  of  in- 
cense. It  makes  one  element  of  the  faint  but 
complex  and  never-to-be-forgotten  odor  of  the 
Far  East.  It  haunts  the  dwelling-house  not  less 
than  the  temple,  — the  home  of  the  peasant  not 
less  than  the  yashiki  of  the  prince.  Shinto 
shrines,  indeed,  are  free  from  it ; — incense  being 
an  abomination  to  the  elder  gods.  But  wherever 
Buddhism  lives  there  is  incense.  In  every  house 
containing  a Buddhist  shrine  or  Buddhist  tablets, 
incense  is  burned  at  certain  times;  and  in  even 
the  rudest  country  solitudes  you  will  find  incense 
smouldering  before  wayside  images,  — little  stone 
figures  of  Fudo,  Jizo,  or  Kwannon.  Many  ex- 
periences of  travel,  — strange  impressions  of  sound 
as  well  as  of  sight,  — remain  associated  in  my 
own  memory  with  that  fragrance : — vast  silent 
shadowed  avenues  leading  to  weird  old  shrines ; 
— mossed  flights  of  worn  steps  ascending  to  tem- 
ples that  moulder  above  the  clouds ; — joyous 
tumult  of  festival  nights ; — sheeted  funeral-trains 
gliding  by  in  glimmer  of  lanterns ; — murmur  of 
household  prayer  in  fishermen’s  huts  on  far  wild 


Incense 


21 


coasts ; — and  visions  of  desolate  little  graves 
marked  only  by  threads  of  blue  smoke  ascending, 
— graves  of  pet  animals  or  birds  remembered  by 
simple  hearts  in  the  hour  of  prayer  to  Amida,  the 
Lord  of  Immeasurable  Light. 

But  the  odor  of  which  1 speak  is  that  of  cheap 
incense  only,  — the  incense  in  general  use.  There 
are  many  other  kinds  of  incense ; and  the  range 
of  quality  is  amazing.  A bundle  of  common  in- 
cense-rods— (they  are  about  as  thick  as  an  or- 
dinary pencil-lead,  and  somewhat  longer)  — can 
be  bought  for  a few  sen ; while  a bundle  of  better 
quality,  presenting  to  inexperienced  eyes  only 
some  difference  in  color,  may  cost  several  yen, 
and  be  cheap  at  the  price.  Still  costlier  sorts  of 
incense, — veritable  luxuries,  — take  the  form  of 
lozenges,  wafers,  pastilles  ; and  a small  envelope 
of  such  material  may  be  worth  four  or  five 
pounds-sterling.  But  the  commercial  and  indus- 
trial questions  relating  to  Japanese  incense  repre- 
sent the  least  interesting  part  of  a remarkably 
curious  subject. 


22 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


II 

Curious  indeed,  but  enormous  by  reason  of  its 
infinity  of  tradition  and  detail.  I am  afraid  even 
to  think  of  the  size  of  the  volume  that  would  be 
needed  to  cover  it.  . . . Such  a work  would  prop- 
erly begin  with  some  brief  account  of  the  earliest 
knowledge  and  use  of  aromatics  in  Japan.  It 
would  next  treat  of  the  records  and  legends  of 
the  first  introduction  of  Buddhist  incense  from 
Korea,  — when  King  Shomyo  of  Kudara,  in  5 5 1 
A.  D.,  sent  to  the  island-empire  a collection  of 
sutras,  an  image  of  the  Buddha,  and  one  complete 
set  of  furniture  for  a temple.  Then  something 
would  have  to  be  said  about  those  classifications 
of  incense  which  were  made  during  the  tenth  cen- 
tury, in  the  periods  of  Engi  and  of  Tenryaku,  — 
and  about  the  report  of  the  ancient  state-coun- 
cillor, Kimitaka-Sangi,  who  visited  China  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  trans- 
mitted to  the  Emperor  Yomei  the  wisdom  of  the 
Chinese  concerning  incense.  Then  mention  should 
be  made  of  the  ancient  incenses  still  preserved  in 
various  Japanese  temples,  and  of  the  famous 
fragments  of  ranjatai  (publicly  exhibited  at 


Incense 


25 


Nara  in  the  tenth  year  of  Meiji)  which  furnished 
supplies  to  the  three  great  captains,  Nobunaga, 
Hideyoshi,  and  lyeyasu.  After  this  should  fol- 
low an  outline  of  the  history  of  mixed  incenses 
made  in  Japan,  — with  notes  on  the  classifica- 
tions devised  by  the  luxurious  Takauji,  and  on 
the  nomenclature  established  later  by  Ashikaga 
Yoshimasa,  who  collected  one  hundred  and  thirty 
varieties  of  incense,  and  invented  for  the  more 
precious  of  them  names  recognized  even  to  this 
day,  — such  as  “ Blossom-Showering,”  “ Smoke- 
of-Fuji,”  and  “ Rower-of-the-Pure-Law.”  Ex- 
amples ought  to  be  given  likewise  of  traditions 
attaching  to  historical  incenses  preserved  in  sev- 
eral princely  families ; together  with  specimens  of 
those  hereditary  recipes  for  incense-making  which 
have  been  transmitted  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration through  hundreds  of  years,  and  are  still 
called  after  their  august  inventors,  — as  “the 
Method  of  Hina-Dainagon,”  “ the  Method  of 
Sento-ln,”  etc.  Recipes  also  should  be  given 
of  those  strange  incenses  made  “ to  imitate  the 
perfume  of  the  lotos,  the  smell  of  the  summer 
breeze,  and  the  odor  of  the  autumn  wind" 
Some  legends  of  the  great  period  of  incense- 
luxury  should  be  cited,  — such  as  the  story  of 


24 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

Sue  Owari-no-Kami,  who  built  for  himself  a 
palace  of  incense-woods,  and  set  fire  to  it  on  the 
night  of  his  revolt,  when  the  smoke  of  its  burn- 
ing perfumed  the  land  to  a distance  of  twelve 
miles.  ...  Of  course  the  mere  compilation  of 
materials  for  a history  of  mixed-incenses  would 
entail  the  study  of  a host  of  documents,  treatises, 
and  books,  — particularly  of  such  strange  works 
as  the  Kun-Shu-Rui-Sho,  or  “ Incense- Collector ’s- 
Classifying-Manual  ” ; — containing  the  teachings 
of  the  Ten  Schools  of  the  Art  of  Mixing  Incense ; 
directions  as  to  the  best  seasons  for  incense-mak- 
ing ; and  instructions  about  the  “ different  kinds 
of  fire”  to  be  used  for  burning  incense — (one 
kind  is  called  “ literary  fire,”  and  another  “ mili- 
tary fire  ”) ; together  with  rules  for  pressing  the 
ashes  of  a censer  into  various  artistic  designs  cor- 
responding to  season  and  occasion.  ...  A special 
chapter  should  certainly  be  given  to  the  incense- 
bags  (husadama)  hung  up  in  houses  to  drive 
away  goblins,  — and  to  the  smaller  incense-bags 
formerly  carried  about  the  person  as  a protection 
against  evil  spirits.  Then  a very  large  part  of  the 
work  would  have  to  be  devoted  to  the  religious 
uses  and  legends  of  incense,  — a huge  subject  in 
itself.  There  would  also  have  to  be  considered  the 


Incense 


2? 


curious  history  of  the  old  “ incense -assemblies,” 
whose  elaborate  ceremonial  could  be  explained 
only  by  help  of  numerous  diagrams.  One  chap- 
ter at  least  would  be  required  for  the  subject  of 
the  ancient  importation  of  incense-materials  from 
India,  China,  Annam,  Siam,  Cambodia,  Ceylon, 
Sumatra,  Java,  Borneo,  and  various  islands  of  the 
Malay  archipelago,  — places  all  named  in  rare 
books  about  incense.  And  a final  chapter  should 
treat  of  the  romantic  literature  of  incense,  — the 
poems,  stories,  and  dramas  in  which  incense-rites 
are  mentioned;  and  especially  those  love-songs 
comparing  the  body  to  incense,  and  passion  to  the 
eating  flame : — 

Even  as  tarns  the  perfume  lending  mj>  robe  its  fragrance, 

Smoulders  my  life  away,  consumed  by  the  pain  of  longing! 

. . . The  merest  outline  of  the  subject  is  ter- 
rifying ! 1 shall  attempt  nothing  more  than  a few 
notes  about  the  religious,  the  luxurious,  and  the 
ghostly  uses  of  incense. 


26 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


III 

The  common  incense  everywhere  burned  by 
poor  people  before  Buddhist  icons  is  called  an- 
soku-ko.  This  is  very  cheap.  Great  quantities 
of  it  are  burned  by  pilgrims  in  the  bronze  cen- 
sers set  before  the  entrances  of  famous  tern- 
pies ; and  in  front  of  roadside  images  you  may 
often  see  bundles  of  it.  These  are  for  the  use  of 
pious  wayfarers,  who  pause  before  every  Buddhist 
image  on  their  path  to  repeat  a brief  prayer  and, 
when  possible,  to  set  a few  rods  smouldering  at 
the  feet  of  the  statue.  But  in  rich  temples,  and 
during  great  religious  ceremonies,  much  more  ex- 
pensive incense  is  used.  Altogether  three  classes 
of  perfumes  are  employed  in  Buddhist  rites  : kd, 
or  incense -proper,  in  many  varieties  — (the  word 
literally  means  only  “ fragrant  substance ”) ; — 
d^uko,  an  odorous  ointment ; and  makko,  a 
fragrant  powder.  Kd  is  burned  ; d\uhd  is  rubbed 
upon  the  hands  of  the  priest  as  an  ointment  of 
purification ; and  makko  is  sprinkled  about  the 
sanctuary.  This  makko  is  said  to  be  identical 
with  the  sandalwood-powder  so  frequently  men- 
tioned in  Buddhist  texts.  But  it  is  only  the  true 


Incense  27 

incense  which  can  be  said  to  bear  an  important 
relation  to  the  religious  service. 

“ Incense,”  declares  the  Soshi-Ryaku,^  “ is  the 
Messenger  of  Earnest  Desire.  When  the  rich 
Sudatta  wished  to  invite  the  Buddha  to  a repast, 
he  made  use  of  incense.  He  was  wont  to  ascend 
to  the  roof  of  his  house  on  the  eve  of  the  day  of 
the  entertainment,  and  to  remain  standing  there 
all  night,  holding  a censer  of  precious  incense. 
And  as  often  as  he  did  thus,  the  Buddha  never 
failed  to  come  on  the  following  day  at  the  exact 
time  desired.” 

This  text  plainly  implies  that  incense,  as  a burnt- 
offering,  symbolizes  the  pious  desires  of  the  faith- 
ful. But  it  symbolizes  other  things  also  ; and  it 
has  furnished  many  remarkable  similes  to  Budd- 
hist literature.  Some  of  these,  and  not  the  least 
interesting,  occur  in  prayers,  of  which  the  follow- 
ing, from  the  book  called  Hoji-san  is  a striking 
example ; — 

— “ Let  my  body  remain  pure  like  a censer ! — 
let  my  thought  he  ever  as  a fire  of  wisdom,  purely 
consuming  the  incense  of  sUa  and  of  dhy ana p — 

1 “ Short  [or  Epitomized]  History  of  Priests.” 

* “The Praise  of  Pious  Observances.” 

* By  sMa  is  meant  the  observance  of  the  rules  of  purity 


28 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

that  so  may  I do  homage  to  all  the  Buddhas  in 
the  Ten  Directions  of  the  Past,  the  Present,  and 
the  Future  I " 

Sometimes  in  Buddhist  sermons  the  destruction 
of  Karma  by  virtuous  effort  is  likened  to  the 
burning  of  incense  by  a pure  flame,  — sometimes, 
again,  the  life  of  man  is  compared  to  the  smoke 
of  incense.  In  his  “ Hundred  Writings  "(Hyaku- 
tsu-kiri-kami),  the  Shinshu  priest  Myoden  says, 
quoting  from  the  Buddhist  work  Kujihhajo,  or 
“ Ninety  Articles  ” : — 

“ In  the  burning  of  incense  we  see  that  so  long 
as  any  incense  remains,  so  long  does  the  burning 
continue,  and  the  smoke  mount  skyward.  Now 
the  breath  of  this  body  of  ours,  — this  imperma- 
nent combination  of  Earth,  Water,  Air,  and  Fire, 
— is  like  that  smoke.  And  the  changing  of  the 
incense  into  cold  ashes  when  the  flame  expires  is 
an  emblem  of  the  changing  of  our  bodies  into 
ashes  when  our  funeral  pyres  have  burnt  them- 
selves out.” 

He  also  tells  us  about  that  Incense -Paradise  of 
which  every  believer  ought  to  be  reminded  by  the 

in  act  and  thought.  Dhyana  (called  by  Japanese  Buddhists 
Zenjo)  is  one  of  the  higher  forms  of  meditation. 


Incense 


29 


perfume  of  earthly  incense ; — “In  the  Thirty- 
Second  Vow  for  the  Attainment  of  the  Paradise 
of  Wondrous  Incense,”  he  says,  “ it  is  written:  — 
‘ Tloat  Paradise  is  formed  of  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  differ e7it  kinds  of  iticefise,  and  of  sub- 
stances uicalculahly  precious ; — the  beauty  of  it 
incomparably  exceeds  anything  in  the  heavens  or 
in  the  sphere  of  man  ; — the  fragrance  of  it  per- 
fumes all  the  worlds  of  the  Ten  Directiojis  of 
Space ; and  all  who  perceive  that  odor  practise 
Buddha-deeds.’  In  ancient  times  there  were  men 
of  superior  wisdom  and  virtue  who,  by  reason  of 
their  vow,  obtained  perception  of  the  odor;  but 
we,  who  are  born  with  inferior  wisdom  and  virtue 
in  these  later  days,  cannot  obtain  such  perception. 
Nevertheless  it  will  be  well  for  us,  when  we  smell 
the  incense  kindled  before  the  image  of  Amida, 
to  imagine  that  its  odor  is  the  wonderful  fragrance 
of  Paradise,  and  to  repeat  the  Nembutsu  in  grati- 
tude  for  the  mercy  of  the  Buddha.” 


30 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


IV 

But  the  use  of  incense  in  Japan  is  not  con- 
fined to  religious  rites  and  ceremonies:  indeed 
the  costlier  kinds  of  incense  are  manufactured 
chiefly  for  social  entertainments.  Incense- burn- 
ing has  been  an  amusement  of  the  aristocracy 
ever  since  the  thirteenth  century.  Probably  you 
have  heard  of  the  Japanese  tea-ceremonies,  and 
their  curious  Buddhist  history;  and  I suppose 
that  every  foreign  collector  of  Japanese  bric- 
a-brac  knows  something  about  the  luxury  to 
which  these  ceremonies  at  one  period  attained, 
— a luxury  well  attested  by  the  quality  of  the 
beautiful  utensils  formerly  employed  in  them. 
But  there  were,  and  still  are,  incense-ceremonies 
much  more  elaborate  and  costly  than  the  tea- 
ceremonies,  — and  also  much  more  interesting. 
Besides  music,  embroidery,  poetical  composition 
and  other  branches  of  the  old-fashioned  female 
education,  the  young  lady  of  pre-Meiji  days  was 
expected  to  acquire  three  especially  polite  ac- 
complishments,— the  art  of  arranging  flowers, 
{ikebana),  the  art  of  ceremonial  tea-making 


Incense 


31 


{cha-no-yu  or  cha-no-e)^  and  the  etiquette  of 
incense-parties  {hd-hwai  or  ko-e).  Incense-parties 
were  invented  before  the  time  of  the  Ashikaga 
shoguns,  and  were  most  in  vogue  during  the 
peaceful  period  of  the  Tokugawa  rule.  With 
the  fall  of  the  shogunate  they  went  out  of  fash- 
ion ; but  recently  they  have  been  to  some  extent 
revived.  It  is  not  likely,  however,  that  they  will 
again  become  really  fashionable  in  the  old  sense, 
— partly  because  they  represented  rare  forms  of 
social  refinement  that  never  can  be  revived,  and 
partly  because  of  their  costliness. 

In  translating  ko-kwai  as  “ incense -party,”  1 
use  the  word  “ party  ” in  the  meaning  that  it 
takes  in  such  compounds  as  “ card-party,” 
“whist-party,”  “chess-party”; — for  a ko-kwai 
is  a meeting  held  only  with  the  object  of  playing 
a game,  — a very  curious  game.  There  are  sev- 
eral kinds  of  incense-games ; but  in  all  of  them 


1 Girls  are  still  trained  in  the  art  of  arranging  flowers, 
and  in  the  etiquette  of  the  dainty,  though  somewhat  tedious, 
cha-no-yii.  Buddhist  priests  have  long  enjoyed  a reputation 
as  teachers  of  the  latter.  When  the  pupil  has  reached  a 
certain  degree  of  proficiency,  she  is  given  a diploma  or 
certificate.  The  tea  used  in  these  ceremonies  is  a powdered 
tea  of  remarkable  fragrance, — the  best  qualities  of  which 
fetch  very  high  prices. 


^2 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

the  contest  depends  upon  the  ability  to  remember 
and  to  name  different  kinds  of  incense  by  the 
perfume  alone.  That  variety  of  ko-kwai  called 
Jitchu-ho  (“  ten-buming-incense  ”)  is  generally 
conceded  to  be  the  most  amusing;  and  1 shall 
try  to  tell  you  how  it  is  played. 

The  numeral  “ ten,”  in  the  Japanese,  or  rather 
Chinese  name  of  this  diversion,  does  not  refer  to 
ten  kinds,  but  only  to  ten  packages  of  incense ; 
for  Jitchu~kd,  besides  being  the  most  amusing,  is 
the  very  simplest  of  incense-games,  and  is  played 
with  only  four  kinds  of  incense.  One  kind  must 
be  supplied  by  the  guests  invited  to  the  party ; 
and  three  are  furnished  by  the  person  who  gives 
the  entertainment.  Each  of  the  latter  three  sup- 
plies of  incense  — usually  prepared  in  packages 
containing  one  hundred  wafers  — is  divided  into 
four  parts ; and  each  part  is  put  into  a separate 
paper  numbered  or  marked  so  as  to  indicate  the 
quality.  Thus  four  packages  are  prepared  of  the 
incense  classed  as  No.  1,  four  of  incense  No.  2, 
and  four  of  incense  No.  3, — or  twelve  in  all. 
But  the  incense  given  by  the  guests,  — always 
called  “ guest-incense  ” — is  not  divided:  it  is 
only  put  into  a wrapper  marked  with  an  abbrevi- 


Incense 


33 


ation  of  the  Chinese  character  signifying  “ guest.” 
Accordingly  we  have  a total  of  thirteen  packages 
to  start  with ; but  three  are  to  be  used  in  the 
preliminary  sampling,  or  “experimenting”  — as 
the  Japanese  term  it,  — after  the  following 
manner. 

We  shall  suppose  the  game  to  be  arranged  for 
a party  of  six,  — though  there  is  no  rule  limiting 
the  number  of  players.  The  six  take  their  places 
in  line,  or  in  a half-circle  — if  the  room  be  small ; 
but  they  do  not  sit  close  together,  for  reasons 
which  will  presently  appear.  Then  the  host,  or 
the  person  appointed  to  act  as  incense- burner, 
prepares  a package  of  the  incense  classed  as 
No.  1,  kindles  it  in  a censer,  and  passes  the 
censer  to  the  guest  occupying  the  first  seat\  with 
the  announcement:  — “This  is  incense  No.  1.” 
The  guest  receives  the  censer  according  to  the 
graceful  etiquette  required  in  the  kd-hwai,  inhales 
the  perfume,  and  passes  on  the  vessel  to  his 
neighbor,  who  receives  it  in  like  manner  and 
passes  it  to  the  third  guest,  who  presents  it  to 

1 The  places  occupied  by  guests  in  a Japanese  ^ashiki, 
or  reception-room,  are  numbered  from  the  alcove  of  the 
apartment.  The  place  of  the  most  honored  is  immediately 
before  the  alcove : this  is  the  first  seat ; and  the  rest  are 
numbered  from  it,  usually  to  the  left 
3 


M In  Ghostly  Japan 

the  fourth,  — and  so  on.  When  the  censer  has 
gone  the  round  of  the  party,  it  is  returned  to  the 
incense-burner.  One  package  of  incense  No.  2, 
and  one  of  No.  3,  are  similarly  prepared,  an- 
nounced, and  tested.  But  with  the  “ guest- in- 
cense ” no  experiment  is  made.  The  player  should 
be  able  to  remember  the  different  odors  of  the 
incenses  tested;  and  he  is  expected  to  identify 
the  guest-incense  at  the  proper  time  merely  by 
the  unfamiliar  quality  of  its  fragrance. 

The  original  thirteen  packages  having  thus  by 
“ experimenting  ” been  reduced  to  ten,  each  player 
is  given  one  set  of  ten  small  tablets  — usually  of 
gold -lacquer,  — every  set  being  differently  orna- 
mented. The  backs  only  of  these  tablets  are 
decorated ; and  the  decoration  is  nearly  always 
a floral  design  of  some  sort:  — thus  one  set  might 
be  decorated  with  chrysanthemums  in  gold, 
another  with  tufts  of  iris- plants,  another  with 
a spray  of  plum-blossoms,  etc.  But  the  faces 
of  the  tablets  bear  numbers  or  marks ; and 
each  set  comprises  three  tablets  numbered  “ 1,” 
three  numbered  “2,”  three  numbered  “3,” 
and  one  marked  with  the  character  signifying 
“ guest.”  After  these  tablet-sets  have  been  dis- 
tributed, a box  called  the  “ tablet-box  ” is  placed 


Incense 

before  the  first  player ; and  all  is  ready  for  the 
real  game. 

The  incense-burner  retires  behind  a little  screen, 
shuffles  the  flat  packages  like  so  many  cards, 
takes  the  uppermost,  prepares  its  contents  in  the 
censer,  and  then,  returning  to  the  party,  sends 
the  censer  upon  its  round.  This  time,  of  course, 
he  does  not  announce  what  kind  of  incense  he 
has  used.  As  the  censer  passes  from  hand  to 
hand,  each  player,  after  inhaling  the  fume,  puts 
into  the  tablet-box  one  tablet  bearing  that  mark 
or  number  which  he  supposes  to  be  the  mark  or 
number  of  the  incense  he  has  smelled.  If,  for 
example,  he  thinks  the  incense  to  be  “guest- 
incense,”  he  drops  into  the  box  that  one  of  his 
tablets  marked  with  the  ideograph  meaning 
“ guest ; ” or  if  he  believes  that  he  has  inhaled 
the  perfume  of  No.  2,  he  puts  into  the  box  a 
tablet  numbered  “ 2.”  When  the  round  is  over, 
tablet -box  and  censer  are  both  returned  to  the 
incense-burner.  He  takes  the  six  tablets  out  of 
the  box,  and  wraps  them  up  in  the  paper  which 
contained  the  incense  guessed  about.  The  tablets 
themselves  keep  the  personal  as  well  as  the  gen- 
eral record,  — since  each  player  remembers  the 
particular  design  upon  his  own  set. 


36  In  Ghostly  Japan 

The  remaining  nine  packages  of  incense  are 
consumed  and  judged  in  the  same  way,  accord- 
ing to  the  chance  order  in  which  the  shuffling 
has  placed  them.  When  all  the  incense  has  been 
used,  the  tablets  are  taken  out  of  their  wrappings, 
the  record  is  officially  put  into  writing,  and  the 
victor  of  the  day  is  announced.  I here  offer  the 
translation  of  such  a record : it  will  serve  to 
explain,  almost  at  a glance,  all  the  complications 
of  the  game. 

According  to  this  record  the  player  who  used 
the  tablets  decorated  with  the  design  called 
“ Young  Pine,”  made  but  two  mistakes ; while 
the  holder  of  the  “ White-Lily  ” set  made  only 
one  correct  guess.  But  it  is  quite  a feat  to  make 
ten  correct  judgments  in  succession.  The  ol- 
factory nerves  are  apt  to  become  somewhat 
numbed  long  before  the  game  is  concluded  ; and 
therefore  it  is  customary  during  the  Kd-kivai  to 
rinse  the  mouth  at  intervals  with  pure  vinegar, 
by  which  operation  the  sensitivity  is  partially 
restored. 

To  the  Japanese  original  of  the  foregoing 
record  were  appended  the  names  of  the  players, 
the  date  of  the  entertainment,  and  the  name  of 
the  place  where  the  party  was  held.  It  is  the 


Incense 


37 


38  In  Ghostly  Japan 

custom  in  some  families  to  enter  all  such  records 
in  a book  especially  made  for  the  purpose,  and 
furnished  with  an  index  which  enables  the 
Ko-kwai  player  to  refer  immediately  to  any  in- 
teresting fact  belonging  to  the  history  of  any 
past  game. 

The  reader  will  have  noticed  that  the  four  kinds 
of  incense  used  were  designated  by  very  pretty 
names.  The  incense  first  mentioned,  for  ex- 
ample, is  called  by  the  poets’  name  for  the 
gloaming,  — Tasogare  (lit. : “ Who  is  there  ? ” 
or  “ Who  is  it  ? ”)  — a word  which  in  this  rela- 
tion hints  of  the  toilet-perfume  that  reveals 
some  charming  presence  to  the  lover  waiting  in 
the  dusk.  Perhaps  some  curiosity  will  be  felt 
regarding  the  composition  of  these  incenses. 
I can  give  the  Japanese  recipes  for  two  sorts ; 
but  1 have  not  been  able  to  identify  all  of  the 
materials  named : — 


Recipe  for  Yamaji-no-Tsuyu. 


Ingredients. 

Jinko  (aloes-wood) 

Clioji  (cloves) 

Kunroku  (olibanum) 

Hakko  (artemisia  Schmidtiana)  . . 

Jako  (musk) 

Koko  (?) 


Proportions. 

about 

4 momme  (^  oz.) 

4 <1  “ 

4 “ 

4 « <1 

1 hu  ^ oz.) 

4 momme  (J  oz.) . 


•a. 


Incense 


39 


Recipe  for  Baikwa. 

Ingredients.  Proportions. 

about 

Jinko  (aloes) 20  momme  (2^  oz.) 

Choji  (cloves) 12  “ (i^  oz.) 

oz.) 

4 “ oz.) 

2 bit  (J  oz.) 

1 bit  2 shu  (x^  oz.) 

3 “ 3 “ (M  oz.) 
(i  oz.) 

2 shu  (j\  oz.) 
(I  oz.)  J 


Koko  (?) 

Byakudan  (sandal-wood)  . , 

Kansho  (spikenard)  .... 

Kwakko  (Bishop’s-wort  ?)  . 

Kunroku  (olibanum) .... 

Shomokko  (?) 2 

Jako  (musk) 3 

Ryuno  (refined  Borneo  Camphor)  3 shu 


■ft. 

o 


The  incense  used  at  a Ko-kwai  ranges  in  value, 
according  to  the  style  of  the  entertainment,  from 
$2.50  to  $30.00  per  envelope  of  100  wafers  — 
wafers  usually  not  more  than  one-fourth  of  an 
inch  in  diameter.  Sometimes  an  incense  is  used 
worth  even  more  than  $30.00  per  envelope  : this 
contains  ranjatai,  an  aromatic  of  which  the 
perfume  is  compared  to  that  of  “ musk  mingled 
with  orchid-flowers.”  But  there  is  some  incense, 
— never  sold,  — which  is  much  more  precious 
than  ranjatai,  — incense  valued  less  for  its  com- 
position than  for  its  history  : I mean  the  incense 
brought  centuries  ago  from  China  or  from  India 
by  the  Buddhist  missionaries,  and  presented  to 
princes  or  to  other  persons  of  high  rank.  Sev- 


40 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

eral  ancient  Japanese  temples  also  include  such 
foreign  incense  among  their  treasures.  And  very 
rarely  a little  of  this  priceless  material  is  con- 
tributed to  an  incense-party,  — much  as  in 
Europe,  on  very  extraordinary  occasions,  some 
banquet  is  glorified  by  the  production  of  a wine 
several  hundred  years  old. 

Like  the  tea-ceremonies,  the  Ko-kwai  exact 
observance  of  a very  complex  and  ancient  eti- 
quette. But  this  subject  could  interest  few 
readers;  and  I shall  only  mention  some  of  the 
rules  regarding  preparations  and  precautions. 
First  of  all,  it  is  required  that  the  person  invited 
to  an  incense-party  shall  attend  the  same  in  as 
odorless  a condition  as  possible : a lady,  for 
instance,  must  not  use  hair-oil,  or  put  on  any 
dress  that  has  been  kept  in  a perfumed  chest-of- 
drawers.  Furthermore,  the  guest  should  prepare 
for  the  contest  by  taking  a prolonged  hot  bath, 
and  should  eat  only  the  lightest  and  least  odorous 
kind  of  food  before  going  to  the  rendezvous.  It 
is  forbidden  to  leave  the  room  during  the  game, 
or  to  open  any  door  or  window,  or  to  indulge  in 
needless  conversation.  Finally  I may  observe 
that,  while  judging  the  incense,  a player  is  ex- 
pected to  take  not  less  than  three  inhalations,  or 
more  than  five. 


Incense 


41 


In  this  economical  era,  the  Kd-kwai  takes  of 
necessity  a much  humbler  form  than  it  assumed 
in  the  time  of  the  great  daimyo,  of  the  princely 
abbots,  and  of  the  military  aristocracy.  A full 
set  of  the  utensils  required  for  the  game  can  now 
be  had  for  about  $50.00 ; but  the  materials  are 
of  the  poorest  kind.  The  old-fashioned  sets  were 
fantastically  expensive.  Some  were  worth  thou- 
sands of  dollars.  The  incense -burner’s  desk,  — 
the  writing-box,  paper-box,  tablet-box,  etc.,  — 
the  various  stands  or  dai,  — were  of  the  costliest 
gold-lacquer ; — the  pincers  and  other  instruments 
were  of  gold,  curiously  worked ; — and  the 
censer  — whether  of  precious  metal,  bronze,  or 
porcelain,  — was  always  a chef-d’oeuvre,  designed 
by  some  artist  of  renown. 


V 

Although  the  original  signification  of  incense 
in  Buddhist  ceremonies  was  chiefly  symbolical, 
there  is  good  reason  to  suppose  that  various 
beliefs  older  than  Buddhism,  — some,  perhaps, 
peculiar  to  the  race ; others  probably  of  Chinese 
or  Korean  derivation,  — began  at  an  early  period 


42 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

to  influence  the  popular  use  of  incense  in 
Japan.  Incense  is  still  burned  in  the  presence  of 
a corpse  with  the  idea  that  its  fragrance  shields 
both  corpse  and  newly-parted  soul  from  malev- 
olent demons;  and  by  the  peasants  it  is  often 
burned  also  to  drive  away  goblins  and  the  evil 
powers  presiding  over  diseases.  But  formerly  it 
was  used  to  summon  spirits  as  well  as  to  banish 
them.  Allusions  to  its  employment  in  various 
weird  rites  may  be  found  in  some  of  the  old 
dramas  and  romances.  One  particular  sort  of 
incense,  imported  from  China,  was  said  to  have 
the  power  of  calling  up  human  spirits.  This  was 
the  wizard-incense  referred  to  in  such  ancient 
love-songs  as  the  following : — 

“ / have  heard  of  the  magical  incense  that  summons  the  souls 
of  the  absent : 

IVould  I had  some  to  burn,  in  the  nights  when  I wait 
alone  I ” 

There  is  an  interesting  mention  of  this  incense 
in  the  Chinese  book,  Sbang-hai-king.  It  was 
called  Fwan-hwan-hiang  (by  Japanese  pronuncia- 
tion, Hangon-ho),  or  “ Spirit-Recalling-lncense ; ” 
and  it  was  made  in  Tso-Chau,  or  the  District  of 
the  Ancestors,  situated  by  the  Eastern  Sea.  To 
summon  the  ghost  of  any  dead  person  — or 


The  Magical  Incense 


Incense 


43 


even  that  of  a living  person,  according  to  some 
authorities,  — it  was  only  necessary  to  kindle 
some  of  the  incense,  and  to  pronounce  certain 
words,  while  keeping  the  mind  fixed  upon  the 
memory  of  that  person.  Then,  in  the  smoke  of 
the  incense,  the  remembered  face  and  form  would 
appear. 

In  many  old  Japanese  and  Chinese  books 
mention  is  made  of  a famous  story  about  this 
incense,  — a story  of  the  Chinese  Emperor  Wu, 
of  the  Han  dynasty.  When  the  Emperor  had 
lost  his  beautiful  favorite,  the  Lady  Li,  he  sor- 
rowed  so  much  that  fears  were  entertained  for 
his  reason.  But  all  efforts  made  to  divert  his 
mind  from  the  thought  of  her  proved  unavail- 
ing. One  day  he  ordered  some  Spirit- Recalling- 
Incense  to  be  procured,  that  he  might  summon 
her  from  the  dead.  His  counsellors  prayed  him 
to  forego  his  purpose,  declaring  that  the  vision 
could  only  intensify  his  grief.  But  he  gave  no 
heed  to  their  advice,  and  himself  performed  the 
rite,  — kindling  the  incense,  and  keeping  his 
mind  fixed  upon  the  memory  of  the  Lady  Li. 
Presently,  within  the  thick  blue  smoke  arising 
from  the  incense,  the  outline  of  a feminine  form 
became  visible.  It  defined,  took  tints  of  life, 


44  In  Ghostly  Japan 

slowly  became  luminous;  and  the  Emperor 
recognized  the  form  of  his  beloved.  At  first 
the  apparition  was  faint;  but  it  soon  became 
distinct  as  a living  person,  and  seemed  with  each 
moment  to  grow  more  beautiful.  The  Emperor 
whispered  to  the  vision,  but  received  no  answer. 
He  called  aloud,  and  the  presence  made  no  sign. 
Then  unable  to  control  himself,  he  approached 
the  censer.  But  the  instant  that  he  touched  the 
smoke,  the  phantom  trembled  and  vanished. 

Japanese  artists  are  still  occasionally  inspired 
by  the  legends  of  the  Hangon-hd,  Only  last 
year,  in  Tokyo,  at  an  exhibition  of  new  kake- 
mono, I saw  a picture  of  a young  wife  kneeling 
before  an  alcove  wherein  the  smoke  of  the  magi- 
cal incense  was  shaping  the  shadow  of  the  absent 
husband.^ 

Although  the  power  of  making  visible  the 
forms  of  the  dead  has  been  claimed  for  one  sort 

1 Among  the  curious  Tokyo  inventions  of  1898  was  a 
new  variety  of  cigarettes  called  Hangon-so,  or  “Herb  of 
Hangon,”  — a name  suggesting  that  their  smoke  operated 
like  the  spirit-summoning  incense.  As  a matter  of  fact, 
the  chemical  action  of  the  tobacco-smoke  would  define, 
upon  a paper  fitted  into  the  mouth-piece  of  each  cigarette, 
the  photographic  image  of  a dancing-girl 


Incense 


4? 


of  incense  only,  the  burning  of  any  kind  of  in- 
cense is  supposed  to  summon  viewless  spirits  in 
multitude.  These  come  to  devour  the  smoke. 
They  are  called  Jiki-kd-ki,  or  “ incense-eating 
goblins ; ” and  they  belong  to  the  fourteenth  of 
the  thirty -six  classes  of  Gaki  {pretas)  recognized 
by  Japanese  Buddhism.  They  are  the  ghosts  of 
men  who  anciently,  for  the  sake  of  gain,  made 
or  sold  bad  incense ; and  by  the  evil  karma  of 
that  action  they  now  find  themselves  in  the  state 
of  hunger-suffering  spirits,  and  compelled  to  seek 
their  only  food  in  the  smoke  of  incense. 


A Story  of  Divination 


A Story  of  Divination 

9 


I ONCE  knew  a fortune-teller  who  really  be- 
lieved in  the  science  that  he  professed.  He 
had  learned,  as  a student  of  the  old  Chinese 
philosophy,  to  believe  in  divination  long  before  he 
thought  of  practising  it.  During  his  youth  he 
had  been  in  the  service  of  a wealthy  daimyo,  but 
subsequently,  like  thousands  of  other  samurai, 
found  himself  reduced  to  desperate  straits  by  the 
social  and  political  changes  of  Meiji.  It  was  then 
that  he  became  a fortune-teller,  — an  itinerant 
iiranaiya,  — travelling  on  foot  from  town  to 
town,  and  returning  to  his  home  rarely  more  than 
once  a year  with  the  proceeds  of  his  journey.  As 
a fortune-teller  he  was  tolerably  successful, — 
chiefly,  I think,  because  of  his  perfect  sincerity, 
and  because  of  a peculiar  gentle  manner  that  in- 
vited confidence.  His  system  was  the  old  schol- 
arly one:  he  used  the  book  known  to  English 

4 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

readers  as  the  Yi-King,  — also  a set  of  ebony 
blocks  which  could  be  so  arranged  as  to  form 
any  of  the  Chinese  hexagrams ; — and  he  always 
began  his  divination  with  an  earnest  prayer  to 
the  gods. 

The  system  itself  he  held  to  be  infallible  in 
the  hands  of  a master.  He  confessed  that  he 
had  made  some  erroneous  predictions;  but  he 
said  that  these  mistakes  had  been  entirely  due 
to  his  own  miscomprehension  of  certain  texts 
or  diagrams.  To  do  him  justice  1 must  men- 
tion that  in  my  own  case  — (he  told  my  fortune 
four  times),  — his  predictions  were  fulfilled  in 
such  wise  that  1 became  afraid  of  them.  You 
may  disbelieve  in  fortune-telling,  — intellectually 
scorn  it ; but  something  of  inherited  supersti- 
tious tendency  lurks  within  most  of  us;  and  a 
few  strange  experiences  can  so  appeal  to  that 
inheritance  as  to  induce  the  most  unreasoning 
hope  or  fear  of  the  good  or  bad  luck  promised 
you  by  some  diviner.  Really  to  see  our  future 
would  be  a misery.  Imagine  the  result  of  know- 
ing that  there  must  happen  to  you,  within  the 
next  two  months,  some  terrible  misfortune  which 
you  cannot  possibly  provide  against ! 

He  was  already  an  old  man  when  I first  saw 


A Story  of  Divination  51 

him  in  Izumo,  — certainly  more  than  sixty  years 
of  age,  but  looking  very  much  younger.  After- 
wards 1 met  him  in  Osaka,  in  Kyoto,  and  in 
Kobe.  More  than  once  I tried  to  persuade  him 
to  pass  the  colder  months  of  the  winter-season 
under  my  roof,  — for  he  possessed  an  extraor- 
dinary knowledge  of  traditions,  and  could  have 
been  of  inestimable  service  to  me  in  a literary  way. 
But  partly  because  the  habit  of  wandering  had 
become  with  him  a second  nature,  and  partly 
because  of  a love  of  independence  as  savage  as  a 
gipsy’s,  1 was  never  able  to  keep  him  with  me  for 
more  than  two  days  at  a time. 

Every  year  he  used  to  come  to  Tokyo,  — usu- 
ally in  the  latter  part  of  autumn.  Then,  for 
several  weeks,  he  would  flit  about  the  city,  from 
district  to  district,  and  vanish  again.  But  during 
these  fugitive  trips  he  never  failed  to  visit  me ; 
bringing  welcome  news  of  Izumo  people  and 
places,  — bringing  also  some  queer  little  present, 
generally  of  a religious  kind,  from  some  famous 
place  of  pilgrimage.  On  these  occasions  1 could 
get  a few  hours’  chat  with  him.  Sometimes  the 
talk  was  of  strange  things  seen  or  heard  during 
his  recent  journey ; sometimes  it  turned  upon  old 
legends  or  beliefs ; sometimes  it  was  about  for- 


S2  In  Ghostly  Japan 

tune-telling.  The  last  time  we  met  he  told  me  of 
an  exact  Chinese  science  of  divination  which  he 
regretted  never  having  been  able  to  learn. 

“ Any  one  learned  in  that  science,”  he  said, 
“ would  be  able,  for  example,  not  only  to  tell  you 
the  exact  time  at  which  any  post  or  beam  of  this 
house  will  yield  to  decay,  but  even  to  tell  you  the 
direction  of  the  breaking,  and  all  its  results.  I can 
best  explain  what  1 mean  by  relating  a story. 

“ The  story  is  about  the  famous  Chinese  for- 
tune-teller whom  we  call  in  Japan  Shoko  Setsu,  and 
it  is  written  in  the  book  ‘Baikwa-Shin-Eki,  which 
is  a book  of  divination.  While  still  a very  young 
man,  Shoko  Setsu  obtained  a high  position  by 
reason  of  his  learning  and  virtue ; but  he  resigned 
it  and  went  into  solitude  that  he  might  give  his 
whole  time  to  study.  For  years  thereafter  he 
lived  alone  in  a hut  among  the  mountains ; study- 
ing without  a fire  in  winter,  and  without  a fan  in 
summer ; writing  his  thoughts  upon  the  wall  of 
his  room  — for  lack  of  paper ; — and  using  only 
a tile  for  his  pillow. 

“ One  day,  in  the  period  of  greatest  summer 
heat,  he  found  himself  overcome  by  drowsiness ; 
and  he  lay  down  to  rest,  with  his  tile  under  his 


9 


A Story  of  Divination 

head.  Scarcely  had  he  fallen  asleep  when  a rat 
ran  across  his  face  and  woke  him  with  a start. 
Feeling  angry,  he  seized  his  tile  and  flung  it  at  the 
rat ; but  the  rat  escaped  unhurt,  and  the  tile  was 
broken.  Shoko  Setsu  looked  sorrowfully  at  the 
fragments  of  his  pillow,  and  reproached  himself 
for  his  hastiness.  Then  suddenly  he  perceived, 
upon  the  freshly  exposed  clay  of  the  broken  tile, 
some  Chinese  characters  — between  the  upper 
and  lower  surfaces.  Thinking  this  very  strange, 
he  picked  up  the  pieces,  and  carefully  examined 
them.  He  found  that  along  the  line  of  fracture 
seventeen  characters  had  been  written  within  the 
clay  before  the  tile  had  been  baked;  and  the 
characters  read  thus : — ‘ In  the  Year  of  the  Hare, 
in  the  fourth  month,  on  the  seventeenth  day,  at 
the  Hour  of  the  Serpent,  this  tile,  after  serving  as 
a pillow,  will  be  thrown  at  a rat  and  broken* 
Now  the  prediction  had  really  been  fulfilled  at  the 
Hour  of  the  Serpent  on  the  seventeenth  day  of  the 
fourth  month  of  the  Year  of  the  Hare.  Greatly 
astonished,  Shoko  Setsu  once  again  looked  at  the 
fragments,  and  discovered  the  seal  and  the  name 
of  the  maker.  At  once  he  left  his  hut,  and,  tak- 
ing with  him  the  pieces  of  the  tile,  hurried  to  the 
neighboring  town  in  search  of  the  tilemaker.  He 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

found  the  tilemaker  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
showed  him  the  broken  tile,  and  asked  him  about 
its  history. 

“ After  having  carefully  examined  the  shards, 
the  tilemaker  said : — ‘ This  tile  was  made  in  my 
house ; but  the  characters  in  the  clay  were  written 
by  an  old  man  — a fortune-teller,  — who  asked 
permission  to  write  upon  the  tile  before  it  was 
baked.’  — ‘ Do  you  know  where  he  lives  ? ’ 
asked  Shoko  Setsu.  ‘ He  used  to  live,’  the  tile- 
maker answered,  ‘ not  very  far  from  here ; and  I 
can  show  you  the  way  to  the  house.  But  I do 
not  know  his  name.’ 

“ Having  been  guided  to  the  house,  Shoko 
Setsu  presented  himself  at  the  entrance,  and  asked 
for  permission  to  speak  to  the  old  man.  A serv- 
ing-student  courteously  invited  him  to  enter,  and 
ushered  him  into  an  apartment  where  several 
young  men  were  at  study.  As  Shoko  Setsu  took 
his  seat,  all  the  youths  saluted  him.  Then  the  one 
who  had  first  addressed  him  bowed  and  said:  — 
‘ We  are  grieved  to  inform  you  that  our  master 
died  a few  days  ago.  But  we  have  been  wait- 
ing for  you,  because  he  predicted  that  you  would 
come  to-day  to  this  house,  at  this  very  hour.  Your 
name  is  Shoko  Setsu.  And  our  master  told  us  to 


A Story  of  Divination 

give  you  a book  which  he  believed  would  be  of 
service  to  you.  Here  is  the  book ; — please  to 
accept  it.’ 

“ Shoko  Setsu  was  not  less  delighted  than 
surprised ; for  the  book  was  a manuscript  of  the 
rarest  and  most  precious  kind,  — containing  all 
the  secrets  of  the  science  of  divination.  After 
having  thanked  the  young  men,  and  properly  ex- 
pressed his  regret  for  the  death  of  their  teacher, 
he  went  back  to  his  hut,  and  there  immediately 
proceeded  to  test  the  worth  of  the  book  by  con- 
sulting its  pages  in  regard  to  his  own  fortune. 
The  book  suggested  to  him  that  on  the  south  side 
of  his  dwelling,  at  a particular  spot  near  one 
comer  of  the  hut,  great  luck  awaited  him.  He 
dug  at  the  place  indicated,  and  found  a jar  con- 
taining gold  enough  to  make  him  a very  wealthy 
man.” 

* 

* * 

My  old  acquaintance  left  this  world  as  lone- 
somely  as  he  had  lived  in  it.  Last  winter,  while 
crossing  a mountain-range,  he  was  overtaken  by 
a snowstorm,  and  lost  his  way.  Many  days  later 
he  was  found  standing  erect  at  the  foot  of  a pine, 
with  his  little  pack  strapped  to  his  shoulders : a 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

statue  of  ice  — arms  folded  and  eyes  closed  as 
in  meditation.  Probably,  while  waiting  for  the 
storm  to  pass,  he  had  yielded  to  the  drowsiness  of 
cold,  and  the  drift  had  risen  over  him  as  he  slept. 
Hearing  of  this  strange  death  I remembered  the 
old  Japanese  saying,  — Uranaiya  minouye  shir- 
ad^u : “The  fortune-teller  knows  not  his  own 
fate.” 


Silkworms 


Silkworms 

9 

I 

I WAS  puzzled  by  the  phrase,  “ silkworm- 
moth  eyebrow,”  in  an  old  Japanese,  or 
rather  Chinese  proverb : — The  silkworm- 
moth  eyebrow  of  a woman  is  the  axe  that  cuts 
down  the  wisdom  of  man.  So  I went  to  my 
friend  Niimi,  who  keeps  silkworms,  to  ask  for 
an  explanation, 

“ Is  it  possible,”  he  exclaimed,  “that  you  never 
saw  a silkworm-moth  I The  silkworm-moth  has 
very  beautiful  eyebrows.” 

“ Eyebrows  } ” 1 queried,  in  astonishment. 
“Well,  call  them  what  you  like,”  returned 
Niimi;  — “the  poets  call  them  eyebrows.  . . . 
Wait  a moment,  and  I will  show  you.” 

He  left  the  guest-room,  and  presently  returned 
with  a white  paper-fan,  on  which  a silkworm-moth 
was  sleepily  reposing. 


60 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ We  always  reserve  a few  for  breeding,”  he 
said  ; — “ this  one  is  just  out  of  the  cocoon.  It 
cannot  fly,  of  course  : none  of  them  can  fly.  . . . 
Now  look  at  the  eyebrows.” 

I looked,  and  saw  that  the  antennas,  very  short 
and  feathery,  were  so  arched  back  over  the  two 
jewel-specks  of  eyes  in  the  velvety  head,  as  to  give 
the  appearance  of  a really  handsome  pair  of  eye- 
brows. 

Then  Niimi  took  me  to  see  his  worms. 

In  Niimi’s  neighborhood,  where  there  are  plenty 
of  mulberry-trees,  many  families  keep  silkworms ; 
— the  tending  and  feeding  being  mostly  done  by 
women  and  children.  The  worms  are  kept  in 
large  oblong  trays,  elevated  upon  light  wooden 
stands  about  three  feet  high.  It  is  curious  to  see 
hundreds  of  caterpillars  feeding  all  together  in  one 
tray,  and  to  hear  the  soft  papery  noise  which  they 
make  while  gnawing  their  mulberry-leaves.  As 
tliey  approach  maturity,  the  creatures  need  almost 
constant  attention.  At  brief  intervals  some  ex- 
pert visits  each  tray  to  inspect  progress,  picks  up 
the  plumpest  feeders,  and  decides,  by  gently  roll- 
ing them  between  forefinger  and  thumb,  which 
are  ready  to  spin.  These  are  dropped  into  covered 


Silkworms 


61 


boxes,  where  they  soon  swathe  themselves  out  of 
sight  in  white  floss.  A few  only  of  the  best  are 
suffered  to  emerge  from  their  silky  sleep,  — the 
selected  breeders.  They  have  beautiful  wings, 
but  cannot  use  them.  They  have  mouths,  but 
do  not  eat.  They  only  pair,  lay  eggs,  and  die. 
For  thousands  of  years  their  race  has  been  so 
well-cared  for,  that  it  can  no  longer  take  any 
care  of  itself. 

It  was  the  evolutional  lesson  of  this  latter  fact 
that  chiefly  occupied  me  while  Niimi  and  his 
younger  brother  (who  feeds  the  worms)  were 
kindly  explaining  the  methods  of  the  industry. 
They  told  me  curious  things  about  different 
breeds,  and  also  about  a wild  variety  of  silkworm 
that  cannot  be  domesticated ; — it  spins  splendid 
silk  before  turning  into  a vigorous  moth  which 
can  use  its  wings  to  some  purpose.  But  I fear 
that  I did  not  act  like  a person  who  felt  inter- 
ested in  the  subject ; for,  even  while  I tried  to 
listen,  I began  to  muse. 


62 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


II 

First  of  all,  I found  myself  thinking  about  a 
delightful  revery  by  M.  Anatole  France,  in  which 
he  says  that  if  he  had  been  the  Demiurge,  he 
would  have  put  youth  at  the  end  of  life  instead 
of  at  the  beginning,  and  would  have  otherwise  so 
ordered  matters  that  every  human  being  should 
have  three  stages  of  development,  somewhat  cor- 
responding to  those  of  the  lepidoptera.  Then  it 
occurred  to  me  that  this  fantasy  was  in  substance 
scarcely  more  than  the  delicate  modification  of  a 
most  ancient  doctrine,  common  to  nearly  all  the 
higher  forms  of  religion. 

Western  faiths  especially  teach  that  our  life  on 
earth  is  a larval  state  of  greedy  helplessness,  and 
that  death  is  a pupa-sleep  out  of  which  we  should 
soar  into  everlasting  light.  They  tell  us  that 
during  its  sentient  existence,  the  outer  body 
should  be  thought  of  only  as  a kind  of  caterpil- 
lar, and  thereafter  as  a chrysalis ; — and  they 
aver  that  we  lose  or  gain,  according  to  our  be- 
havior as  larva;,  the  power  to  develop  wings 
under  the  mortal  wrapping.  Also  they  tell  us 
not  to  trouble  ourselves  about  the  fact  that  we 


Silkworms 


6} 


see  no  Psyche-imago  detach  itself  from  the  broken 
cocoon : this  lack  of  visual  evidence  signifies 
nothing,  because  we  have  only  the  purblind  vision 
of  grubs.  Our  eyes  are  but  half-evolved.  Do 
not  whole  scales  of  colors  invisibly  exist  above 
and  below  the  limits  of  our  retinal  sensibility  ? 
Even  so  the  butterfly-man  exists,  — although,  as 
a matter  of  course,  we  cannot  see  him. 

But  what  would  become  of  this  human  imago 
in  a state  of  perfect  bliss  ? From  the  evolutional 
point  of  view  the  question  has  interest ; and  its 
obvious  answer  was  suggested  to  me  by  the  his- 
tory of  those  silkworms,  — which  have  been  do- 
mesticated for  only  a few  thousand  years.  Consider 
the  result  of  our  celestial  domestication  for  — let 
us  say  — several  millions  of  years ; I mean  the 
final  consequence,  to  the  wishers,  of  being  able  to 
gratify  every  wish  at  will. 

Those  silkworms  have  all  that  they  wish  for, — 
even  considerably  more.  Their  wants,  though 
very  simple,  are  fundamentally  identical  with  the 
necessities  of  mankind,  — food,  shelter,  warmth, 
safety,  and  comfort.  Our  endless  social  struggle 
is  mainly  for  these  things.  Our  dream  of  heaven 
is  the  dream  of  obtaining  them  free  of  cost  in 
pain ; and  the  condition  of  those  silkworms  is  the 


64 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

realization,  in  a small  way,  of  our  imagined  Para- 
dise. (I  am  not  considering  the  fact  that  a vast 
majority  of  the  worms  are  predestined  to  torment 
and  the  second  death ; for  my  theme  is  of  heaven, 
not  of  lost  souls.  I am  speaking  of  the  elect  — 
those  worms  preordained  to  salvation  and  rebirth.) 
Probably  they  can  feel  only  very  weak  sensations : 
they  are  certainly  incapable  of  prayer.  But  if 
they  were  able  to  pray,  they  could  not  ask  for 
anything  more  than  they  already  receive  from 
the  youth  who  feeds  and  tends  them.  He  is  their 
providence,  — a god  of  whose  existence  they  can 
be  aware  in  only  the  vaguest  possible  way,  but 
just  such  a god  as  they  require.  And  we  should 
foolishly  deem  ourselves  fortunate  to  be  equally 
well  cared -for  in  proportion  to  our  more  complex 
wants.  Do  not  our  common  forms  of  prayer 
prove  our  desire  for  like  attention?  Is  not  the 
assertion  of  our  “ need  of  divine  love  ” an  in- 
voluntary  confession  that  we  wish  to  be  treated 
like  silkworms,  — to  live  without  pain  by  the  help 
of  gods  ? Yet  if  the  gods  were  to  treat  us  as  we 
want,  we  should  presently  afford  fresh  evidence, 
— in  the  way  of  what  is  called  “ the  evidence  from 
degeneration,”  — that  the  great  evolutional  law  is 
far  above  the  gods. 


Silkworms 


6? 


An  early  stage  of  that  degeneration  would  be 
represented  by  total  incapacity  to  help  ourselves  ; 
— then  we  should  begin  to  lose  the  use  of  our 
higher  sense-organs ; — later  on,  the  brain  would 
shrink  to  a vanishing  pin-point  of  matter ; — still 
later  we  should  dwindle  into  mere  amorphous 
sacs,  mere  blind  stomachs.  Such  would  be  the 
physical  consequence  of  that  kind  of  divine  love 
which  we  so  lazily  wish  for.  The  longing  for 
perpetual  bliss  in  perpetual  peace  might  well  seem 
a malevolent  inspiration  from  the  Lords  of  Death 
and  Darkness.  All  life  that  feels  and  thinks  has 
been,  and  can  continue  to  be,  only  as  the  product 
of  struggle  and  pain,  — only  as  the  outcome  of 
endless  battle  with  the  Powers  of  the  Universe. 
And  cosmic  law  is  uncompromising.  Whatever 
organ  ceases  to  know  pain,  — whatever  faculty 
ceases  to  be  used  under  the  stimulus  of  pain,  — 
must  also  cease  to  exist.  Let  pain  and  its  eifort 
be  suspended,  and  life  must  shrink  back,  first 
into  protoplasmic  shapelessness,  thereafter  into 
dust. 

Buddhism  — which,  in  its  own  grand  way,  is  a 
doctrine  of  evolution  — rationally  proclaims  its 
heaven  but  a higher  stage  of  development  through 
S 


66 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

pain,  and  teaches  that  even  in  paradise  the  cessa- 
tion of  effort  produces  degradation.  With  equal 
reasonableness  it  declares  that  the  capacity  for 
pain  in  the  superhuman  world  increases  always 
in  proportion  to  the  capacity  for  pleasure.  (There 
is  little  fault  to  be  found  with  this  teaching 
from  a scientific  standpoint,  — since  we  know 
that  higher  evolution  must  involve  an  increase 
of  sensitivity  to  pain.)  In  the  Heavens  of  De- 
sire, says  the  Shobo-nen-jo-kyo,  the  pain  of  death 
is  so  great  that  all  the  agonies  of  all  the  hells 
united  could  equal  but  one-sixteenth  part  of  such 
pain.^ 

The  foregoing  comparison  is  unnecessarily 
strong ; but  the  Buddhist  teaching  about  heaven 
is  in  substance  eminently  logical.  The  suppression 
of  pain  — mental  or  physical,  — in  any  conceiv- 
able state  of  sentient  existence,  would  necessarily 
involve  the  suppression  also  of  pleasure;  — and 
certainly  all  progress,  whether  moral  or  material, 

1 This  statement  refers  only  to  the  Heavens  of  Sensuous 
Pleasure,  — not  to  the  Paradise  of  Amida,  nor  to  those 
heavens  into  which  one  enters  by  the  Apparitional  Birth. 
But  even  in  the  highest  and  most  immaterial  zones  of  being, 
— in  the  Heavens  of  Formlessness,  — the  cessation  of  effort 
and  of  the  pain  of  effort,  involves  the  penalty  of  rebirth  in 
a lower  state  of  existence. 


Silkworms 


67 


depends  upon  the  power  to  meet  and  to  master 
pain.  In  a silkworm-paradise  such  as  our  mundane 
instincts  lead  us  to  desire,  the  seraph  freed  from  the 
necessity  of  toil,  and  able  to  satisfy  his  every  want 
at  will,  would  lose  his  wings  at  last,  and  sink  back 
to  the  condition  of  a grub.  . . . 


Ill 

I told  the  substance  of  my  revery  to  Niimi.  He 
used  to  be  a great  reader  of  Buddhist  books. 

“ Well,”  he  said,  “ 1 was  reminded  of  a queer 
Buddhist  story  by  the  proverb  that  you  asked  me 
to  explain,  — The  silkworm-moth  eyebrow  of  a 
woman  is  the  axe  that  cuts  down  the  wisdom 
of  man.  According  to  our  doctrine,  the  saying 
would  be  as  true  of  life  in  heaven  as  of  life  upon 
earth.  . . . This  is  the  story : — 

“ When  Shaka  ^ dwelt  in  this  world,  one  of  his 
disciples,  called  Nanda,  was  bewitched  by  the 
beauty  of  a woman ; and  Shaka  desired  to  save 
him  from  the  results  of  this  illusion.  So  he  took 


1 SakyamunL 


68 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

Nanda  to  a wild  place  in  the  mountains  where 
there  were  apes,  and  showed  him  a very  ugly  fe- 
male ape,  and  asked  him  : — ‘ Which  is  the  more 
beautiful,  Nanda,  — the  woman  that  you  love,  or 
this  female  ape  ? ’ ‘ Oh,  Master ! ’ exclaimed 

Nanda,  — ‘how  can  a lovely  woman  be  compared 
with  an  ugly  ape  ? ’ ‘ Perhaps  you  will  presently 
find  reason  to  make  the  comparison  yourself,’ 
answered  the  Buddha ; — and  instantly  by  super- 
natural power  he  ascended  with  Nanda  to  the  San- 
jusan-7en,  which  is  the  Second  of  the  Six  Heavens 
of  Desire.  There,  within  a palace  of  jewels, 
Nanda  saw  a multitude  of  heavenly  maidens  cele- 
brating some  festival  with  music  and  dance  ; and 
the  beauty  of  the  least  among  them  incomparably 
exceeded  that  of  the  fairest  woman  of  earth.  ‘ O 
Master,’  cried  Nanda,  ‘ what  wonderful  festival  is 
this  ? ’ ‘ Ask  some  of  those  people,’  responded 

Shaka.  So  Nanda  questioned  one  of  the  celestial 
maidens ; and  she  said  to  him  : — ‘ This  festival 
is  to  celebrate  the  good  tidings  that  have  been 
brought  to  us.  There  is  now  in  the  human  world, 
among  the  disciples  of  Shaka,  a most  excellent 
youth  called  Nanda,  who  is  soon  to  be  reborn 
into  this  heaven,  and  to  become  our  bridegroom, 
because  of  his  holy  life.  We  wait  for  him  with 


Silkworms 


69 


rejoicing.’  This  reply  filled  the  heart  of  Nanda 
with  delight.  Then  the  Buddha  asked  him  : — 
‘ Is  there  any  one  among  these  maidens,  Nanda, 
equal  in  beauty  to  the  woman  with  whom  you 
have  been  in  love  ? ’ ‘ Nay,  Master ! ’ answered 
Nanda  ; — ‘ even  as  that  woman  surpassed  in 
beauty  the  female  ape  that  we  saw  on  the  moun- 
tain, so  is  she  herself  surpassed  by  even  the  least 
among  these.’ 

“ Then  the  Buddha  immediately  descended  with 
Nanda  to  the  depths  of  the  hells,  and  took  him 
into  a torture-chamber  where  myriads  of  men  and 
women  were  being  boiled  alive  in  great  caldrons, 
and  otherwise  horribly  tormented  by  devils.  Then 
Nanda  found  himself  standing  before  a huge  ves- 
sel which  was  filled  with  molten  metal ; — and  he 
feared  and  wondered  because  this  vessel  had  as 
yet  no  occupant.  An  idle  devil  sat  beside  it, 
yawning.  ‘ Master,’  Nanda  inquired  of  the  Bud- 
dha, ‘ for  whom  has  this  vessel  been  prepared } ’ 
‘ Ask  the  devil,’  answered  Shaka.  Nanda  did  so ; 
and  the  devil  said  to  him : — ‘ There  is  a man 
called  Nanda,  — now  one  of  Shaka’s  disciples, 
— about  to  be  reborn  into  one  of  the  heavens,  on 
account  of  his  former  good  actions.  But  after 
having  there  indulged  himself,  he  is  to  be  reborn 


70  In  Ghostly  Japan 

in  this  hell ; and  his  place  will  be  in  that  pot,  1 
am  waiting  for  him.’  ” ^ 

1 1 give  the  story  substantially  as  it  was  told  to  me;  but  I 
have  not  been  able  to  compare  it  with  any  published  text. 
My  friend  says  that  he  has  seen  two  Chinese  versions, — 
one  in  the  Hongyo-kyo  (?),  the  other  in  the  Zoichi-agon-kyo 
( Ek6ttaragamas).  In  Mr.  Henry  Clarke  Warren’s  Buddhism  in 
Translations  (the  most  interesting  and  valuable  single  volume 
of  its  kind  that  I have  ever  seen),  there  is  a Pali  version  of 
the  legend,  which  differs  considerably  from  the  above.  — 
This  Nanda,  according  to  Mr.  Warren’s  work,  was  a prince, 
and  the  younger  half-brother  of  Sakyamuni. 


A Passional  Karma 


A Passional  Karma 

9 


ONE  of  the  never-failing  attractions  of  the 
Tokyo  stage  is  the  performance,  by  the 
famous  Kikugoro  and  his  company,  of 
the  Botan-Doro,  or  “ Peony- Lantern.”  This 
weird  play,  of  which  the  scenes  are  laid  in  the 
middle  of  the  last  century,  is  the  dramatization 
of  a romance  by  the  novelist  Encho,  written  in 
colloquial  Japanese,  and  purely  Japanese  in  local 
color,  though  inspired  by  a Chinese  tale.  1 went 
to  see  the  play  ; and  Kikugoro  made  me  familiar 
with  a new  variety  of  the  pleasure  of  fear. 

“ Why  not  give  English  readers  the  ghostly 
part  of  the  story  ? ” — asked  a friend  who  guides 
me  betimes  through  the  mazes  of  Eastern  philos- 
ophy. “ It  would  serve  to  explain  some  popu- 
lar ideas  of  the  supernatural  which  Western 
people  know  very  little  about  And  1 could  help 
you  with  the  translation.” 


74  In  Ghostly  Japan 

1 gladly  accepted  the  suggestion ; and  we  com- 
posed  the  following  summary  of  the  more  ex- 
traordinary portion  of  Encho’s  romance.  Here 
and  there  we  found  it  necessary  to  condense  the 
original  narrative ; and  we  tried  to  keep  close  to 
the  text  only  in  the  conversational  passages,  — 
some  of  which  happen  to  possess  a particular 
quality  of  psychological  interest. 

* 

* * 

— This  is  the  story  of  the  Ghosts  in  the 
Romance  of  the  Peony-Lantern : — 


I 

There  once  lived  in  the  district  of  Ushigome, 
in  Yedo,  a hatamoto  ^ called  lijima  Heizayemon, 
whose  only  daughter,  Tsuyu,  was  beautiful  as 
her  name,  which  signifies  “ A'loming  Dew.” 
lijima  took  a second  wife  when  his  daughter 
was  about  sixteen ; and,  finding  that  O-Tsuyu 

r The  hatamoto  were  samurai  forming  the  special  mili- 
tary force  of  the  Shogun.  The  name  literally  signifies 
“ Banner-Supporters.”  These  were  the  highest  class  of 
samurai,  — not  only  as  the  immediate  vassals  of  the  Shogun, 
but  as  a military  aristocracy. 


A Passional  Karma 


75 


could  not  be  happy  with  her  mother-in-law,  he 
had  a pretty  villa  built  for  the  girl  at  Yanagijima, 
as  a separate  residence,  and  gave  her  an  excellent 
maidservant,  called  O-Yone',  to  wait  upon  her. 

O-Tsuyu  lived  happily  enough  in  her  new 
home  until  one  day  when  the  family  physician, 
Yamamoto  Shi  jo,  paid  her  a visit  in  company 
with  a young  samurai  named  Hagiwara  Shin- 
zaburo,  who  resided  in  the  Nedzu  quarter. 
Shinzaburo  was  an  unusually  handsome  lad,  and 
very  gentle;  and  the  two  young  people  fell  in 
love  with  each  other  at  sight.  Even  before  the 
brief  visit  was  over,  they  contrived,  — unheard 
by  the  old  doctor,  — to  pledge  themselves  to 
each  other  for  life.  And,  at  parting,  O-Tsuyu 
whispered  to  the  youth,  — Remember  I if  you 
do  not  come  to  see  me  again,  I shall  certainly 
die ! ” 

Shinzaburo  never  forgot  those  words ; and  he 
was  only  too  eager  to  see  more  of  O-Tsuyu. 
But  etiquette  forbade  him  to  make  the  visit 
alone:  he  was  obliged  to  wait  for  some  other 
chance  to  accompany  the  doctor,  who  had  prom- 
ised to  take  him  to  the  villa  a second  time. 
Unfortunately  the  old  man  did  not  keep  this 


76  In  Ghostly  Japan 

promise.  He  had  perceived  the  sudden  affection 
of  O-Tsuyu;  and  he  feared  that  her  father 
would  hold  him  responsible  for  any  serious  re- 
suits,  lijima  Heizayemon  had  a reputation  for 
cutting  off  heads.  And  the  more  Shijo  thought 
about  the  possible  consequences  of  his  introduc- 
tion of  Shinzaburd  at  the  lijima  villa,  the  more 
he  became  afraid.  Therefore  he  purposely  ab- 
stained from  calling  upon  his  young  friend. 

Months  passed ; and  O-Tsuyu,  little  imagining 
the  true  cause  of  Shinzaburo’s  neglect,  believed 
that  her  love  had  been  scorned.  Then  she  pined 
away,  and  died.  Soon  afterwards,  the  faithful 
servant  O-Yone  also  died,  through  grief  at  the 
loss  of  her  mistress;  and  the  two  were  buried 
side  by  side  in  the  cemetery  of  Shin-Banzui-In, — ■ 
a temple  which  still  stands  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Dango-Zaka,  where  the  famous  chrysanthe- 
mum-shows are  yearly  held. 


II 

Shinzaburo  knew  nothing  of  what  had  hap- 
pened ; but  his  disappointment  and  his  anxiety 
had  resulted  in  a prolonged  illness.  He  was 


A Passional  Karma 


77 


slowly  recovering’,  but  still  very  weak,  when  he 
unexpectedly  received  another  visit  from  Yama- 
moto Shijo.  The  old  man  made  a number  of 
plausible  excuses  for  his  apparent  neglect.  Shin- 
zaburo  said  to  him : — 

“ 1 have  been  sick  ever  since  the  beginning  of 
spring ; — even  now  1 cannot  eat  anything.  . . . 
Was  it  not  rather  unkind  of  you  never  to  call  ? 
I thought  that  we  were  to  make  another  visit  to- 
gether to  the  house  of  the  Lady  lijima;  and  1 
wanted  to  take  to  her  some  little  present  as  a 
return  for  our  kind  reception.  Of  course  1 could 
not  go  by  myself.” 

Shijo  gravely  responded,  — 

“ 1 am  very  sorry  to  tell  you  that  the  young 
lady  is  dead.” 

“ Dead  ! ” repeated  Shinzaburo,  turning  white, 
— ” did  you  say  that  she  is  dead  } ” 

The  doctor  remained  silent  for  a moment,  as 
if  collecting  himself : then  he  resumed,  in  the 
quick  light  tone  of  a man  resolved  not  to  take 
trouble  seriously : — 

“ My  great  mistake  was  in  having  introduced 
you  to  her ; for  it  seems  that  she  fell  in  love 
with  you  at  once.  1 am  afraid  that  you  must 
have  said  something  to  encourage  this  affection — 


78  In  Ghostly  Japan 

when  you  were  in  that  little  room  together.  At 
all  events,  1 saw  how  she  felt  towards  you ; and 
then  1 became  uneasy,  — fearing  that  her  father 
might  come  to  hear  of  the  matter,  and  lay  the 
whole  blame  upon  me.  So  — to  be  quite  frank 
with  you,  — 1 decided  that  it  would  be  better  not 
to  call  upon  you ; and  1 purposely  stayed  away 
for  a long  time.  But,  only  a few  days  ago, 
happening  to  visit  lijima’s  house,  1 heard,  to  my 
great  surprise,  that  his  daughter  had  died,  and 
that  her  servant  O-Yone  had  also  died.  Then, 
remembering  all  that  had  taken  place,  1 knew 
that  the  young  lady  must  have  died  of  love  for 
you.  . . . \_Laughing]  Ah,  you  are  really  a sin- 
ful fellow  ! Yes,  you  are ! \^Laughing]  Is  n’t  it 
a sin  to  have  been  born  so  handsome  that  the 
girls  die  for  love  of  you ^ . \_Seriously'\ 

Well,  we  must  leave  the  dead  to  the  dead. 
It  is  no  use  to  talk  further  about  the  matter ; — 
all  that  you  now  can  do  for  her  is  to  repeat  the 
Nembutsu**  . . . Good-bye.” 

1 Perhaps  this  conversation  may  seem  strange  to  the 
Western  reader ; but  it  is  true  to  life.  The  whole  of  the 
scene  is  characteristically  Japanese. 

* The  invocation  Namu  Amida  Butsu ! (“  Hail  to  the 
Buddha  Amitabha  I ”),  — repeated,  as  a prayer,  for  the  sake 
of  the  dead. 


A Passional  Karma 


79 


And  the  old  man  retired  hastily,  — anxious  to 
avoid  further  converse  about  the  painful  event 
for  which  he  felt  himself  to  have  been  unwit- 
tingly responsible. 


m 

Shinzaburo  long  remained  stupefied  with  grief 
by  the  news  of  O-Tsuyu’s  death.  But  as  soon 
as  he  found  himself  again  able  to  think  clearly, 
he  inscribed  the  dead  girl’s  name  upon  a mor- 
tuary  tablet,  and  placed  the  tablet  in  the  Bud- 
dhist shrine  of  his  house,  and  set  offerings  before 
it,  and  recited  prayers.  Every  day  thereafter  he 
presented  offerings,  and  repeated  the  Nemhutsu; 
and  the  memory  of  O-Tsuyu  was  never  absent 
from  his  thought. 

Nothing  occurred  to  change  the  monotony  of 
his  solitude  before  the  time  of  the  Bon,  — the 
great  Festival  of  the  Dead,  — which  begins  upon 
the  thirteenth  day  of  the  seventh  month.  Then 
he  decorated  his  house,  and  prepared  everything 
for  the  festival ; — hanging  out  the  lanterns  that 
guide  the  returning  spirits,  and  setting  the  food 
of  ghosts  on  the  shoryodana,  or  Shelf  of  Souls. 


80 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

And  on  the  first  evening  of  the  Bon,  after  sun- 
down,  he  kindled  a small  lamp  before  the  tablet 
of  O-Tsuyu,  and  lighted  the  lanterns. 

The  night  was  clear,  with  a great  moon,  — and 
windless,  and  very  warm.  Shinzaburo  sought 
the  coolness  of  his  veranda.  Clad  only  in  a 
light  summer-robe,  he  sat  there  thinking,  dream- 
ing, sorrowing ; — sometimes  fanning  himself ; 
sometimes  making  a little  smoke  to  drive  the 
mosquitoes  away.  Everything  was  quiet.  It 
was  a lonesome  neighborhood,  and  there  were 
few  passers-by.  He  could  hear  only  the  soft 
rushing  of  a neighboring  stream,  and  the  shrilling 
of  night- insects. 

But  all  at  once  this  stillness  was  broken  by 
a sound  of  women’s  geta  ^ approaching  — kara- 
kon,  kara-hon ; — and  the  sound  drew  nearer 
and  nearer,  quickly,  till  it  reached  the  live-hedge 
surrounding  the  garden.  Then  Shinzaburo,  feel- 
ing curious,  stood  on  tiptoe,  so  as  to  look  over 
the  hedge;  and  he  saw  two  women  passing. 
One,  who  was  carrying  a beautiful  lantern  deco- 

1 Komagela  in  the  original.  The  geta  is  a wooden  sandal, 
or  clog,  of  which  there  are  many  varieties,  — some  decid- 
edly elegant.  The  komageia,  or  “ pony-geta  ” is  so-called 
because  of  the  sonorous  hoof-like  echo  which  it  makes  on 
hard  ground. 


The  Peony  Lantern 


A Passional  Karma 


81 


rated  with  peony-flowers,^  appeared  to  be  a ser- 
vant ; — the  other  was  a slender  girl  of  about 
seventeen,  wearing  a long-sleeved  robe  embroid- 
ered with  designs  of  autumn-blossoms.  Almost 
at  the  same  instant  both  women  turned  their 
faces  toward  Shinzaburo ; — and  to  his  utter 
astonishment,  he  recognized  O-Tsuyu  and  her 
servant  O-Yone. 

They  stopped  immediately ; and  the  girl  cried 
out, — 

“ Oh,  how  strange ! . . . Hagiwara  Sama ! ” 

Shinzaburo  simultaneously  called  to  the 
maid ; — 

“ O-Yone ! Ah,  you  are  O-Yone ! — I remem- 
ber you  very  well.” 

“ Hagiwara  Sama  ! ” exclaimed  O-Yone  in  a 
tone  of  supreme  amazement.  ” Never  could  I 
have  believed  it  possible ! . . . Sir,  we  were 
told  that  you  had  died.” 

1 The  sort  of  lantern  here  referred  to  is  no  longer  made ; 
and  its  shape  can  best  be  understood  by  a glance  at  the 
picture  accompanying  this  story.  It  was  totally  unlike  the 
modern  domestic  hand-lantern,  painted  with  the  owner’s 
crest ; but  it  was  not  altogether  unlike  some  forms  of  lan- 
terns still  manufactured  for  the  Festival  of  the  Dead,  and 
called  Bon-ddro.  The  flowers  ornamenting  it  were  not 
painted : they  were  artificial  flowers  of  crepe-silk,  and  were 
attached  to  the  top  of  the  lantern. 

6 


82 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ How  extraordinary ! ” cried  Shinzaburo. 
“ Why,  I was  told  that  both  of  you  were  dead ! ” 
“ Ah,  what  a hateful  story  1 ” returned 
O-Yone.  “ Why  repeat  such  unlucky  words  ? 
. . . Who  told  you  ? ” 

“ Please  to  come  in,”  said  Shinzaburo ; — 
“here  we  can  talk  better.  The  garden-gate  is 
open,” 

So  they  entered,  and  exchanged  greeting ; and 
when  Shinzaburo  had  made  them  comfortable,  he 
said : — 

“ 1 trust  that  you  will  pardon  my  discourtesy 
in  not  having  called  upon  you  for  so  long  a time. 
But  Shijo,  the  doctor,  about  a month  ago,  told 
me  that  you  had  both  died.” 

“ So  it  was  he  who  told  you  ? ” exclaimed 
O-Yone.  “ It  was  very  wicked  of  him  to  say 
such  a thing.  Well,  it  was  also  Shijo  who  told 
us  that  you  were  dead.  1 think  that  he  wanted 
to  deceive  you,  — which  was  not  a difficult  thing 
to  do,  because  you  are  so  confiding  and  trustful. 
Possibly  my  mistress  betrayed  her  liking  for  you 
in  some  words  which  found  their  way  to  her 
father’s  ears ; and,  in  that  case,  O-Kuni  — the 
new  wife  — might  have  planned  to  make  the 
doctor  tell  you  that  we  were  dead,  so  as  to  bring 


A Passional  Karma 


83 


about  a separation.  Anyhow,  when  my  mistress 
heard  that  you  had  died,  she  wanted  to  cut  off 
her  hair  immediately,  and  to  become  a nun.  But 
I was  able  to  prevent  her  from  cutting  off  her 
hair;  and  1 persuaded  her  at  last  to  become  a 
nun  only  in  her  heart.  Afterwards  her  father 
wished  her  to  marry  a certain  young  man  ; and 
she  refused.  Then  there  was  a great  deal  of 
trouble,  — chiefly  caused  by  O-Kuni ; — and  we 
went  away  from  the  villa,  and  found  a very 
small  house  in  Yanaka-no-Sasaki.  There  we  are 
now  just  barely  able  to  live,  by  doing  a little 
private  work.  . . . .V.y  mistress  has  been  con- 
stantly repeating  the  Nembutsu  for  your  sake. 
To-day,  being  the  first  day  of  the  Bon,  we  went 
to  visit  the  temples;  and  we  were  on  our  way 
home  — thus  late  — when  this  strange  meeting 
happened.” 

" Oh,  how  extraordinary ! ” cried  Shinzaburo. 
“ Can  it  be  true  ? — or  is  it  only  a dream  1 Here 
1,  too,  have  been  constantly  reciting  the  Nem- 
butsu before  a tablet  with  her  name  upon  it ! 
Look ! ” And  he  showed  them  O-Tsuyu’s 
tablet  in  its  place  upon  the  Shelf  of  Souls. 

“ We  are  more  than  grateful  for  your  kind 
remembrance,”  returned  O-Yone,  smiling.  . . . 


84 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ Now  as  for  my  mistress,”  — she  continued, 
turning  towards  O-Tsuyu,  who  had  all  the  while 
remained  demure  and  silent,  half -hiding  her  face 
with  her  sleeve, — “as  for  my  mistress,  she 
actually  says  that  she  would  not  mind  being  dis- 
owned by  her  father  for  the  time  of  seven  exist- 
ences,^ or  even  being  killed  by  him,  for  your  sake ! 
. . . Come  ! will  you  not  allow  her  to  stay  here 
to-night  ? ” 

Shinzaburo  turned  pale  for  joy.  He  answered 
in  a voice  trembling  with  emotion  : — 

“ Please  remain ; but  do  not  speak  loud  — 
because  there  is  a troublesome  fellow  living  close 
by,  — a ninsomi  * called  Hakuodo  Yusai,  who  tells 
people’s  fortunes  by  looking  at  their  faces.  He 
is  inclined  to  be  curious ; and  it  is  better  that  he 
should  not  know.” 

^ “ For  the  time  of  seven  existences,”  — that  is  to  say, 
for  the  time  of  seven  successive  lives.  In  Japanese  drama 
and  romance  it  is  not  uncommon  to  represent  a father  as 
disowning  his  child  “ for  the  time  of  seven  lives.”  Such 
a disowning  is  called  sbicbi-sbo  made  no  mando,  a disinherit- 
ance for  seven  lives,  — signifying  that  in  six  future  lives 
after  the  present  the  erring  son  or  daughter  will  continue 
to  feel  the  parental  displeasure. 

* The  profession  is  not  yet  extinct.  The  ninsomi  uses  a 
kind  of  magnifying  glass  (or  magnifying-mirror  some- 
times), called  tengankyX)  or  ninsomegane. 


A Passional  Karma  85 

The  two  women  remained  that  night  in  the 
house  of  the  young  samurai,  and  returned  to 
their  own  home  a little  before  daybreak.  And 
after  that  night  they  came  every  night  for  seven 
nights,  — whether  the  weather  were  foul  or  fair, 
— always  at  the  same  hour.  And  Shinzaburo 
became  more  and  more  attached  to  the  girl ; and 
the  twain  were  fettered,  each  to  each,  by  that 
bond  of  illusion  which  is  stronger  than  bands  of 
iron. 


IV 

Now  there  was  a man  called  Tomozo,  who 
lived  in  a small  cottage  adjoining  Shinzaburo’s 
residence.  Tomozo  and  his  wife  O-Mine  were 
both  employed  by  Shinzaburo  as  servants.  Both 
seemed  to  be  devoted  to  their  young  master; 
and  by  his  help  they  were  able  to  live  in  com- 
parative comfort. 

One  night,  at  a very  late  hour,  Tomozo  heard 
the  voice  of  a woman  in  his  master’s  apartment ; 
and  this  made  him  uneasy.  He  feared  that  Shin- 
zaburo, being  very  gentle  and  affectionate,  might 
be  made  the  dupe  of  some  cunning  wanton,  — 
in  which  event  the  domestics  would  be  the  first 


86 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

to  suffer.  He  therefore  resolved  to  watch ; and 
on  the  following  night  he  stole  on  tiptoe  to 
Shinzaburo’s  dwelling,  and  looked  through  a 
chink  in  one  of  the  sliding  shutters.  By  the 
glow  of  a night-lantern  within  the  sleeping-room, 
he  was  able  to  perceive  that  his  master  and  a 
strange  woman  were  talking  together  under  the 
mosquito-net.  At  first  he  could  not  see  the 
woman  distinctly.  Her  back  was  turned  to  him  ; 
— he  only  observed  that  she  was  very  slim,  and 
that  she  appeared  to  be  very  young,  — judging 
from  the  fashion  of  her  dress  and  hair.^  Putting 
his  ear  to  the  chink,  he  could  hear  the  conver- 
sation plainly.  The  woman  said  : — 

“ And  if  I should  be  disowned  by  my  father, 
would  you  then  let  me  come  and  live  with 
you  > ” 

Shinzaburo  answered : — 

“Most  assuredly  1 would  — nay,  1 should  be 
glad  of  the  chance.  But  there  is  no  reason  to 
fear  that  you  will  ever  be  disowned  by  your 
father ; for  you  are  his  only  daughter,  and  he 
loves  you  very  much.  What  1 do  fear  is  that 
some  day  we  shall  be  cruelly  separated." 

I The  color  and  form  of  the  dress,  and  the  style  of 
wearing  the  hair,  are  by  Japanese  custom  regulated  accord- 
ing to  the  age  of  the  woman. 


A Passional  Karma 


87 


She  responded  softly  : — 

“ Never,  never  could  1 even  think  of  accepting 
any  other  man  for  my  husband.  Even  if  our 
secret  were  to  become  known,  and  my  father 
were  to  kill  me  for  what  I have  done,  still  — 
after  death  itself  — 1 could  never  cease  to  think 
of  you.  And  1 am  now  quite  sure  that  you 
yourself  would  not  be  able  to  live  very  long 
without  me.”  . . . Then  clinging  closely  to 
him,  with  her  lips  at  his  neck,  she  caressed  him ; 
and  he  returned  her  caresses. 

Tomozo  wondered  as  he  listened,  — because 
the  language  of  the  woman  was  not  the  language 
of  a common  woman,  but  the  language  of  a lady 
of  rank.^  Then  he  determined  at  all  hazards  to 
get  one  glimpse  of  her  face ; and  he  crept  round 
the  house,  backwards  and  forwards,  peering 
through  every  crack  and  chink.  And  at  last  he 
was  able  to  see ; — but  therewith  an  icy  trem- 
bling seized  him ; and  the  hair  of  his  head 
stood  up. 

For  the  face  was  the  face  of  a woman  long 

1 The  forms  of  speech  used  by  the  samurai,  and  other 
superior  classes,  differed  considerably  from  those  of  the 
popular  idiom ; but  these  differences  could  not  be  effec- 
tively rendered  into  English. 


88 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

dead,  — and  the  fingers  caressing  were  fingers  of 
naked  bone,  — and  of  the  body  below  the  waist 
there  was  not  anything : it  melted  off  into  thin- 
nest trailing  shadow.  Where  the  eyes  of  the 
lover  deluded  saw  youth  and  grace  and  beauty, 
there  appeared  to  the  eyes  of  the  watcher  horror 
only,  and  the  emptiness  of  death.  Simultane- 
ously another  woman’s  figure,  and  a weirder, 
rose  up  from  within  the  chambe;*,  and  swiftly 
made  toward  the  watcher,  as  if  discerning  his 
presence.  Then,  in  uttermost  terror,  he  fled  to 
the  dwelling  of  Hakuodo  Yusai,  and,  knocking 
frantically  at  the  doors,  succeeded  in  arousing 
him. 


V 

Hakuodo  Yusai,  the  ninsomi,  was  a very  old 
man ; but  in  his  time  he  had  travelled  much,  and 
he  had  heard  and  seen  so  many  things  that  he 
could  not  be  easily  surprised.  Yet  the  story  of 
the  terrified  Tomozo  both  alarmed  and  amazed 
him.  He  had  read  in  ancient  Chinese  books  of 
love  between  the  living  and  the  dead ; but  he  had 
never  believed  it  possible.  Now,  however,  he  felt 


A Passional  Karma 


89 


convinced  that  the  statement  of  Tomozo  was  not 
a falsehood,  and  that  something  very  strange  was 
really  going  on  in  the  house  of  Hagiwara.  Should 
the  truth  prove  to  be  what  Tomozo  imagined, 
then  the  young  samurai  was  a doomed  man. 

“ If  the  woman  be  a ghost,”  — said  Yusai  to 
the  frightened  servant,  “ — if  the  woman  be  a 
ghost,  your  master  must  die  very  soon,  — unless 
something  extraordinary  can  be  done  to  save 
him.  And  if  the  woman  be  a ghost,  the  signs 
of  death  will  appear  upon  his  face.  For  the 
spirit  of  the  living  \sydhi,  and  pure  ; — the  spirit 
of  the  dead  is  inki,  and  unclean : the  one  is 
Positive,  the  other  Negative.  He  whose  bride  is 
a ghost  cannot  live.  Even  though  in  his  blood 
there  existed  the  force  of  a life  of  one  hundred 
years,  that  force  must  quickly  perish.  . . . Still, 
1 shall  do  all  that  I can  to  save  Hagiwara  Sama. 
And  in  the  meantime,  Tomozo,  say  nothing  to  any 
other  person,  — not  even  to  your  wife,  — about 
this  matter.  At  sunrise  I shall  call  upon  your 
master.” 


90 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


VI 

When  questioned  next  morning  by  Yusai,  Shin- 
zaburo  at  first  attempted  to  deny  that  any  women 
had  been  visiting  the  house ; but  finding  this 
artless  policy  of  no  avail,  and  perceiving  that  the 
old  man’s  purpose  was  altogether  unselfish,  he 
was  finally  persuaded  to  acknowledge  what  Jiad 
really  occurred,  and  to  give  his  reasons  for  wish- 
ing to  keep  the  matter  a secret.  As  for  the  lady 
lijima,  he  intended,  he  said,  to  make  her  his  wife 
as  soon  as  possible. 

“ Oh,  madness  ! ” cried  Yusai,  — losing  all 
patience  in  the  intensity  of  his  alarm.  “ Know, 
sir,  that  the  people  who  have  been  coming  here, 
night  after  night,  are  dead!  Some  frightful 
delusion  is  upon  you!  . . . Why,  the  simple 
fact  that  you  long  supposed  O-Tsuyu  to  be  dead, 
and  repeated  the  Nembutsu  for  her,  and  made 
offerings  before  her  tablet,  is  itself  the  proof ! . . . 
The  lips  of  the  dead  have  touched  you  I — the 
hands  of  the  dead  have  caressed  you ! . . . Even 
at  this  moment  I see  in  your  face  the  signs  of 
death  — and  you  will  not  believe ! . . . Listen 
to  me  now,  sir,  — I beg  of  you,  — if  you  wish  to 


A Passional  Karma 


91 


save  yourself:  otherwise  you  have  less  than 
twenty  days  to  live.  They  told  you  — those 
people  — that  they  were  residing  in  the  district 
of  Shitaya,  in  Yanaka-no-Sasaki.  Did  you  ever 
visit  them  at  that  place } No ! — of  course  you 
did  not ! Then  go  to-day,  — as  soon  as  you  can, 
— to  Yanaka-no-Sasaki,  and  try  to  find  their 
home ! . . . ” 

And  having  uttered  this  counsel  with  the  most 
vehement  earnestness,  Hakuodo  Yusai  abruptly 
took  his  departure. 

Shinzaburo,  startled  though  not  convinced,  re- 
solved after  a moment’s  reflection  to  follow  the 
advice  of  the  ninsomi,  and  to  go  to  Shitaya.  It 
was  yet  early  in  the  morning  when  he  reached  the 
quarter  of  Yanaka-no-Sasaki,  and  began  his  search 
for  the  dwelling  of  O-Tsuyu.  He  went  through 
every  street  and  side-street,  read  all  the  names 
inscribed  at  the  various  entrances,  and  made  in- 
quiries whenever  an  opportunity  presented  itself. 
But  he  could  not  find  anything  resembling  the 
little  house  mentioned  by  O-Yone  ; and  none  of 
the  people  whom  he  questioned  knew  of  any 
house  in  the  quarter  inhabited  by  two  single 
women.  Feeling  at  last  certain  that  further 


92 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

research  would  be  useless,  he  turned  homeward 
by  the  shortest  way,  which  happened  to  lead 
through  the  grounds  of  the  temple  Shin-Ban- 
zui-ln. 

Suddenly  his  attention  was  attracted  by  two 
new  tombs,  placed  side  by  side,  at  the  rear  of 
the  temple.  One  was  a common  tomb,  such  as 
might  have  been  erected  for  a person  of  humble 
rank : the  other  was  a large  and  handsome  mon- 
ument ; and  hanging  before  it  was  a beautiful 
peony-lantern,  which  had  probably  been  left  there 
at  the  time  of  the  Festival  of  the  Dead.  Shinza- 
buro  remembered  that  the  peony-lantern  carried 
by  O-Yone  was  exactly  similar ; and  the  coin- 
cidence impressed  him  as  strange.  He  looked 
again  at  the  tombs ; but  the  tombs  explained 
nothing.  Neither  bore  any  personal  name, — 
only  the  Buddhist  haimyo,  or  posthumous  appel- 
lation. Then  he  determined  to  seek  information 
at  the  temple.  An  acolyte  stated,  in  reply  to  his 
questions,  that  the  large  tomb  had  been  recently 
erected  for  the  daughter  of  lijima  Heizayemon, 
the  hatamoto  of  Ushigome ; and  that  the  small 
tomb  next  to  it  was  that  of  her  servant  O-Yone, 
who  had  died  of  grief  soon  after  the  young  lady’s 
funeral. 


A Passional  Karma 


93 


Immediately  to  Shinzaburo’s  memory  there 
recurred,  with  another  and  sinister  meaning,  the 
words  of  O-Yone ; — “ We  went  away,  and found 
a very  small  house  in  Yanaka-no-Sasaki.  There 
we  are  now  just  barely  able  to  live  — by  doing  a 
little  private  work.  . . Here  was  indeed  the 
very  small  house,  — and  in  Yanaka-no-Sasaki. 
But  the  little  private  work  ...  I 
Terror-stricken,  the  samurai  hastened  with  all 
speed  to  the  house  of  Yusai,  and  begged  for  his 
counsel  and  assistance.  But  Yusai  declared  him- 
self unable  to  be  of  any  aid  in  such  a case.  All 
that  he  could  do  was  to  send  Shinzaburo  to  the 
high-priest  Ryoseki,  of  Shin-Banzui-In,  with  a 
letter  praying  for  immediate  religious  help. 


VII 

The  high-priest  Ryoseki  was  a learned  and  a 
holy  man.  By  spiritual  vision  he  was  able  to 
know  the  secret  of  any  sorrow,  and  the  nature 
of  the  karma  that  had  caused  it.  He  heard  un- 
moved the  story  of  Shinzaburo,  and  said  to 
him:  — 


94 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ A very  great  danger  now  threatens  you,  be- 
cause of  an  error  committed  in  one  of  your 
former  states  of  existence.  The  karma  that 
binds  you  to  the  dead  is  very  strong ; but  if 
I tried  to  explain  its  character,  you  would  not 
be  able  to  understand.  1 shall  therefore  tell  you 
only  this,  — that  the  dead  person  has  no  desire 
to  injure  you  out  of  hate,  feels  no  enmity  to- 
wards you  : she  is  influenced,  on  the  contrary, 
by  the  most  passionate  affection  for  you.  Prob- 
ably the  girl  has  been  in  love  with  you  from  a 
time  long  preceding  your  present  life,  — from 
a time  of  not  less  than  three  or  four  past  exist- 
ences ; and  it  would  seem  that,  although  neces- 
sarily changing  her  form  and  condition  at  each 
succeeding  birth,  she  has  not  been  able  to  cease 
from  following  after  you.  Therefore  it  will  not  be 
an  easy  thing  to  escape  from  her  influence.  . . . 
But  now  1 am  going  to  lend  you  this  powerful 
mamori}  It  is  a pure  gold  image  of  that  Buddha 

1 The  Japanese  word  mamori  has  significations  at  least 
as  numerous  as  those  attaching  to  our  own  term  “ amulet.” 
It  would  be  impossible,  in  a mere  footnote,  even  to  sug- 
gest the  variety  of  Japanese  religious  objects  to  which  the 
name  is  given.  In  this  instance,  the  mamori  is  a very  small 
image,  probably  enclosed  in  a miniature  shrine  of  lacquer- 
work  or  metal,  over  which  a silk  cover  is  drawn.  Such 


A Passional  Karma 


9? 


called  the  Sea-Sounding  Tathagata  — Kai-On- 
Nydrai,  — because  his  preaching  of  the  Law 
sounds  through  the  world  like  the  sound  of  the 
sea.  And  this  little  image  is  especially  a sbiryo- 
yoke}  — which  protects  the  living  from  the  dead. 
This  you  must  wear,  in  its  covering,  next  to 
your  body,  — under  the  girdle.  . . . Besides,  I 
shall  presently  perform  in  the  temple,  a segaki- 
service  **  for  the  repose  of  the  troubled  spirit.  , . . 
And  here  is  a holy  sutra,  called  Ubd-Darani-Kyd, 
or  “ Treasure- Raining  Sutra:”®  you  must  be 

little  images  were  often  worn  by  samurai  on  the  person. 
I was  recently  shown  a miniature  figure  of  Kwannon,  in  an 
iron  case,  which  had  been  carried  by  an  officer  through 
the  Satsuma  war.  He  observed,  with  good  reason,  that  it 
had  probably  saved  his  life ; for  it  had  stopped  a bullet  of 
which  the  dent  was  plainly  visible. 

1 From  shiryo,  a ghost,  and  yoheru,  to  exclude.  The 
Japanese  have  two  kinds  of  ghosts  proper  in  their  folk- 
lore: the  spirits  of  the  dead,  shiryo;  and  the  spirits  of  the 
living,  ikiryo.  A house  or  a person  may  be  haunted  by  an 
ihiryo  as  well  as  by  a shiryo. 

* A special  service,  — accompanying  offerings  of  food, 
etc.,  to  those  dead  having  no  living  relatives  or  friends  to 
care  for  them,  — is  thus  termed.  In  this  case,  however, 
the  service  would  be  of  a particular  and  exceptional  kind. 

* The  name  would  be  more  correctly  written  Uho- 
Darant-Ky6.  It  is  the  Japanese  pronunciation  of  the  title 
of  a very  short  sutra  translated  out  of  Sanscrit  into  Chinese 
by  the  Indian  priest  Amoghavajra,  probably  during  the 


96 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

careful  to  recite  it  every  night  in  your  house  — 
without  fail.  . . . Furthermore  1 shall  give  you 
this  package  of  o-fuda ; ^ — you  must  paste  one 
of  them  over  every  opening  of  your  house, — 
no  matter  how  small.  If  you  do  this,  the  power 
of  the  holy  texts  will  prevent  the  dead  from  en- 
tering. But  — whatever  may  happen  — do  not 
fail  to  recite  the  sutra.” 

Shinzaburo  humbly  thanked  the  high -priest; 
and  then,  taking  with  him  the  image,  the  sutra, 
and  the  bundle  of  sacred  texts,  he  made  all  haste 
to  reach  his  home  before  the  hour  of  sunset. 

eighth  century.  The  Chinese  text  contains  transliterations 
of  some  mysterious  Sanscrit  words, — apparently  talismanic 
words,  — like  those  to  be  seen  in  Kern’s  translation  of 
the  Saddharma-Pundarika,  ch.  xxvi. 

1 O-fuda  is  the  general  name  given  to  religious  texts 
used  as  charms  or  talismans.  They  are  sometimes  stamped 
or  burned  upon  wood,  but  more  commonly  written  or 
printed  upon  narrow  strips  of  paper.  O-fuda  are  pasted 
above  house-entrances,  on  the  walls  of  rooms,  upon  tablets 
placed  in  household  shrines,  etc.,  etc.  Some  kinds  are 
worn  about  the  person;  — others  are  made  into  pellets, 
and  swallowed  as  spiritual  medicine.  The  text  of  the 
larger  o-fuda  is  often  accompanied  by  curious  pictures  or 
symbolic  illustrations. 


A Passional  Karma 


97 


vni 

With  Yusai’s  advice  and  help,  Shinzaburo  was 
able  before  dark  to  fix  the  holy  texts  over  all  the 
apertures  of  his  dwelling.  Then  the  ninsomi 
returned  to  his  own  house,  — leaving  the  youth 
alone. 

Night  came,  warm  and  clear.  Shinzaburo 
made  fast  the  doors,  bound  the  precious  amulet 
about  his  waist,  entered  his  mosquito-net,  and 
by  the  glow  of  a night-lantern  began  to  recite 
the  Ubo-Darani-Kyo.  For  a long  time  he 
chanted  the  words,  comprehending  little  of  their 
meaning; — then  he  tried  to  obtain  some  rest. 
But  his  mind  was  still  too  much  disturbed  by 
the  strange  events  of  the  day.  Midnight  passed ; 
and  no  sleep  came  to  him.  At  last  he  heard  the 
boom  of  the  great  temple- bell  of  Dentsu-ln 
announcing  the  eighth  hour.^ 

1 According  to  the  old  Japanese  way  of  counting  time, 
this  yatsttdoki  or  eighth  hour  was  the  same  as  our  two 
o’clock  in  the  morning.  Each  Japanese  hour  was  equal  to 
two  European  hours,  so  that  there  were  only  six  hours  in- 
stead of  our  twelve ; and  these  six  hours  were  counted 
backwards  in  the  order,  — 9,  8,  7,  6,  5,  4.  Thus  the 
ninth  hour  corresponded  to  our  midday,  or  midnight; 
7 


98  In  Ghostly  Japan 

It  ceased ; and  Shinzaburo  suddenly  heard  the 
sound  of  geta  approaching  from  the  old  di- 
rection, — but  this  time  more  slowly : karan- 
koron,  karan-koron!  At  once  a cold  sweat 
broke  over  his  forehead.  Opening  the  sutra 
hastily,  with  trembling  hand,  he  began  again  to 
recite  it  aloud.  The  steps  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  — reached  the  live  hedge,  — stopped  ! 
Then,  strange  to  say,  Shinzaburo  felt  unable 
to  remain  under  his  mosquito-net:  something 
stronger  even  than  his  fear  impelled  him  to 
look ; and,  instead  of  continuing  to  recite  the 
Ubd-Darani-Kyo,  he  foolishly  approached  the 
shutters,  and  through  a chink  peered  out  into 
the  night.  Before  the  house  he  saw  O-Tsuyu 
standing,  and  O-Yone  with  the  peony-lantern ; 
and  both  of  them  were  gazing  at  the  Buddhist 
texts  pasted  above  the  entrance.  Never  before 
— not  even  in  what  time  she  lived  — had 
O-Tsuyu  appeared  so  beautiful;  and  Shinza- 
buro felt  his  heart  drawn  towards  her  with  a 
power  almost  resistless.  But  the  terror  of  death 

half-past  nine  to  our  one  o’clock;  eight  to  our  two 
o’clock.  Two  o’clock  in  the  morning,  ako  called  “ the 
Hour  of  the  Ox,”  was  the  Japanese  hour  of  ghosts  and 
goblins. 


A Passional  Karma 


99 


and  the  terror  of  the  unknown  restrained;  and 
there  went  on  within  him  such  a struggle  between 
his  love  and  his  fear  that  he  became  as  one 
suffering  in  the  body  the  pains  of  the  Sho-netsu 
hell.^ 

Presently  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  maid-ser- 
vant, saying:  — 

“ My  dear  mistress,  there  is  no  way  to  enter. 
The  heart  of  Hagiwara  Sama  must  have  changed. 
For  the  promise  that  he  made  last  night  has  been 
broken ; and  the  doors  have  been  made  fast  to 
keep  us  out.  . . . We  cannot  go  in  to-night.  . . . 
It  will  be  wiser  for  you  to  make  up  your  mind 
not  to  think  any  more  about  him,  because  his 
feeling  towards  you  has  certainly  changed.  It 
is  evident  that  he  does  not  want  to  see  you.  So 
it  will  be  better  not  to  give  yourself  any  more 
trouble  for  the  sake  of  a man  whose  heart  is 
so  unkind.” 

But  the  girl  answered,  weeping : — 

“ Oh,  to  think  that  this  could  happen  after 
the  pledges  which  we  made  to  each  other ! . . . 

1 En-^etsu  or  Sho-netsu  (Sanscrit  “ Tapana”)  is  the  sixth 
of  the  Eight  Hot  Hells  of  Japanese  Buddhism.  One  day 
of  life  in  this  hell  is  equal  in  duration  to  thousands  (some 
say  millions)  of  human  years. 


100  In  Ghostly  Japan 

Often  1 was  told  that  the  heart  of  a man  changes 
as  quickly  as  the  sky  of  autumn  ; — yet  surely 
the  heart  of  Hagiwara  Sama  cannot  be  so  cruel 
that  he  should  really  intend  to  exclude  me  in  this 
way ! . . . Dear  Yone,  please  find  some  means 
of  taking  me  to  him.  . . . Unless  you  do,  1 will 
never,  never  go  home  again.” 

Thus  she  continued  to  plead,  veiling  her  face 
with  her  long  sleeves,  — and  very  beautiful  she 
looked,  and  very  touching  ; but  the  fear  of  death 
was  strong  upon  her  lover. 

O-Yone  at  last  made  answer,  — 

“ My  dear  young  lady,  why  will  you  trouble 
your  mind  about  a man  who  seems  to  be  so 
cruel } . . . Well,  let  us  see  if  there  be  no  way 
to  enter  at  the  back  of  the  house:  come  with 
me!  ” 

And  taking  O-Tsuyu  by  the  hand,  she  led  her 
away  toward  the  rear  of  the  dwelling ; and  there 
the  two  disappeared  as  suddenly  as  the  light  dis- 
appears when  the  flame  of  a lamp  is  blown  out. 


A Passional  Karma 


101 


IX 

Night  after  night  the  shadows  came  at  the 
Hour  of  the  Ox ; and  nightly  Shinzaburo  heard 
the  weeping  of  O-Tsuyu.  Yet  he  believed  him- 
self saved,  — little  imagining  that  his  doom  had 
already  been  decided  by  the  character  of  his 
dependents. 

Tomoz5  had  promised  Yusai  never  to  speak  to 
any  other  person — not  even  to  O-Mine — of 
the  strange  events  that  were  taking  place.  But 
Tomozo  was  not  long  suffered  by  the  haunters 
to  rest  in  peace.  Night  after  night  O-Yone  en- 
tered into  his  dwelling,  and  roused  him  from  his 
sleep,  and  asked  him  to  remove  the  o-fuda  placed 
over  one  very  small  window  at  the  back  of  his 
master’s  house.  And  Tomozo,  out  of  fear,  as 
often  promised  her  to  take  away  the  o-fuda  before 
the  next  sundown ; but  never  by  day  could  he 
make  up  his  mind  to  remove  it,  — believing  that 
evil  was  intended  to  Shinzaburo.  At  last,  in 
a night  of  storm,  O-Yone  startled  him  from 
slumber  with  a cry  of  reproach,  and  stooped 
above  his  pillow,  and  said  to  him  : “ Have  a care 


102  In  Ghostly  Japan 

how  you  trifle  with  us  ! If,  by  to-morrow  night, 
you  do  not  take  away  that  text,  you  shall  learn 
how  1 can  hate ! ” And  she  made  her  face  so 
frightful  as  she  spoke  that  Tomozo  nearly  died  of 
terror, 

O-Mine,  the  wife  of  Tomozo,  had  never  till 
then  known  of  these  visits : even  to  her  husband 
they  had  seemed  like  bad  dreams.  But  on  this 
particular  night  it  chanced  that,  waking  suddenly, 
she  heard  the  voice  of  a woman  talking  to 
Tomozo.  Almost  in  the  same  moment  the  talk- 
ing ceased ; and  when  O-Mine  looked  about  her, 
she  saw,  by  the  light  of  the  night-lamp,  only  her 
husband,  — shuddering  and  white  with  fear. 
The  stranger  was  gone ; the  doors  were  fast : it 
seemed  impossible  that  anybody  could  have  en- 
tered.  Nevertheless  the  jealousy  of  the  wife  had 
been  aroused;  and  she  began  to  chide  and  to 
question  Tomozo  in  such  a manner  that  he 
thought  himself  obliged  to  betray  the  secret,  and 
to  explain  the  terrible  dilemma  in  which  he  had 
been  placed. 

Then  the  passion  of  0-A\ine  yielded  to  wonder 
and  alarm  ; but  she  was  a subtle  woman,  and  she 
devised  immediately  a plan  to  save  her  husband 
by  the  sacrifice  of  her  master.  And  she  gave 


A Passional  Karma  103 

Tomozo  a cunning  counsel,  — telling  him  to 
make  conditions  with  the  dead. 

They  came  again  on  the  following  night  at  the 
Hour  of  the  Ox ; and  O-Mine  hid  herself  on 
hearing  the  sound  of  their  coming,  — haran-hor- 
on,  karan-koron!  But  Tomozo  went  out  to 
meet  them  in  the  dark,  and  even  found  courage 
to  say  to  them  what  his  wife  had  told  him  to 
say:  — 

“It  is  true  that  1 deserve  your  blame;  — but 
I had  no  wish  to  cause  you  anger.  The  reason 
that  the  o-fiida  has  not  been  taken  away  is  that 
my  wife  and  1 are  able  to  live  only  by  the  help 
of  Hagiwara  Sama,  and  that  we  cannot  expose 
him  to  any  danger  without  bringing  misfortune 
upon  ourselves.  But  if  we  could  obtain  the  sum 
of  a hundred  ryd  in  gold,  we  should  be  able  to 
please  you,  because  we  should  then  need  no  help 
from  anybody.  Therefore  if  you  will  give  us  a 
hundred  ryd,  1 can  take  the  o-fuda  away  with- 
out being  afraid  of  losing  our  only  means  of 
support.”  '-f 

When  he  had  uttered  these  words,  O-Yone 
and  O-Tsuyu  looked  at  each  other  in  silence  for 
a moment.  Then  O-Yone  said : — 


104  In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ Mistress,  I told  you  that  it  was  not  right  to 
trouble  this  man,  — as  we  have  no  just  cause  of 
ill  will  against  him.  But  it  is  certainly  useless  to 
fret  yourself  about  Hagiwara  Sama,  because  his 
heart  has  changed  towards  you.  Now  once  again, 
my  dear  young  lady,  let  me  beg  you  not  to  think 
any  more  about  him  ! ” 

But  O-Tsuyu,  weeping,  made  answer : — 

“ Dear  Yone,  whatever  may  happen,  1 cannot 
possibly  keep  myself  from  thinking  about  him ! 
. . . You  know  that  you  can  get  a hundred  ryd 
to  have  the  o-fuda  taken  off.  . . Only  once  more, 
1 pray,  dear  Yone!  — only  once  more  bring  me 
face  to  face  with  Hagiwara  Sama,  — 1 beseech 
you ! ” And  hiding  her  face  with  her  sleeve,  she 
thus  continued  to  plead. 

“ Oh ! why  will  you  ask  me  to  do  these 
things  ? ” responded  O-Yone.  “ You  know  very 
well  that  1 have  no  money.  But  since  you  will 
persist  in  this  whim  of  yours,  in  spite  of  all  that 
1 can  say,  1 suppose  that  1 must  try  to  find  the 
money  somehow,  and  to  bring  it  here  to-morrow 
night.  . . .”  Then,  turning  to  the  faithless  To- 
mozo,  she  said  : — “ Tomozo,  1 must  tell  you 
that  Hagiwara  Sama  now  wears  upon  his  body  a 
mamori  called  by  the  name  of  Kai-On-Nydrai, 


A Passional  Karma 


105 


and  that  so  long  as  he  wears  it  we  cannot  ap- 
proach him.  So  you  will  have  to  get  that  ma- 
mori  away  from  him,  by  some  means  or  other,  as 
well  as  to  remove  the  o-fiida" 

Tomozo  feebly  made  answer:  — 

“ That  also  1 can  do,  if  you  will  promise  to 
bring  me  the  hundred  ryo” 

“ Well,  mistress,”  said  O-Yone,  “you  will  wait, 
— will  you  not,  — until  to-morrow  night  ? ” 

“ Oh,  dear  Yone ! ” sobbed  the  other, — “ have 
we  to  go  back  to-night  again  without  seeing  Hagi- 
wara  Sama  ? Ah ! it  is  cruel ! ” 

And  the  shadow  of  the  mistress,  weeping,  was 
led  away  by  the  shadow  of  the  maid. 


X 

Another  day  went,  and  another  night  came, 
and  the  dead  came  with  it.  But  this  time  no 
lamentation  was  heard  without  the  house  of 
Hagiwara;  for  the  faithless  servant  found  his 
reward  at  the  Hour  of  the  Ox,  and  removed  the 
o-fuda.  Moreover  he  had  been  able,  while  his 
master  was  at  the  bath,  to  steal  from  its  case  the 
golden  mamori,  and  to  substitute  for  it  an  image 


106  In  Ghostly  Japan 

of  copper;  and  he  had  buried  the  Kai-On-Ny- 
orai  in  a desolate  field.  So  the  visitants  found 
nothing  to  oppose  their  entering.  Veiling  their 
faces  with  their  sleeves  they  rose  and  passed,  like 
a streaming  of  vapor,  into  the  little  window  from 
over  which  the  holy  text  had  been  tom  away. 
But  what  happened  thereafter  within  the  house 
Tomoz5  never  knew. 

The  sun  was  high  before  he  ventured  again  to 
approach  his  master's  dwelling,  and  to  knock 
upon  the  sliding-doors.  For  the  first  time  in 
years  he  obtained  no  response;  and  the  silence 
made  him  afraid.  Repeatedly  he  called,  and 
received  no  answer.  Then,  aided  by  O-Mine, 
he  succeeded  in  effecting  an  entrance  and  making 
his  way  alone  to  the  sleeping-room,  where  he 
called  again  in  vain.  He  rolled  back  the  rum- 
bling shutters  to  admit  the  light ; but  still  within 
the  house  there  was  no  stir.  At  last  he  dared  to 
lift  a comer  of  the  mosquito-net.  But  no  sooner 
had  he  looked  beneath  than  he  fled  from  the 
house,  with  a cry  of  horror. 

Shinzaburo  was  dead  — hideously  dead ; — and 
his  face  was  the  face  of  a man  who  had  died  in 
the  uttermost  agony  of  fear ; — and  lying  beside 
him  in  the  bed  were  the  bones  of  a woman ! 


A Passional  Karma  107 

And  the  hones  of  the  arms,  and  the  bones  of  the 
hands,  dung  fast  about  his  neck. 


XI 

Hakuodo  Yusai,  the  fortune-teller,  went  to  view 
the  corpse  at  the  prayer  of  the  faithless  Tomozo. 
The  old  man  was  terrified  and  astonished  at  the 
spectacle,  but  looked  about  him  with  a keen  eye. 
He  soon  perceived  that  the  o-fuda  had  been  taken 
from  the  little  window  at  the  back  of  the  house ; 
and  on  searching  the  body  of  Shinzabur5,  he  dis- 
covered that  the  golden  mamori  had  been  taken 
from  its  wrapping,  and  a copper  image  of  Fudo 
put  in  place  of  it.  He  suspected  Tomozo  of  the 
theft ; but  the  whole  occurrence  was  so  very  ex- 
traordinary that  he  thought  it  prudent  to  consult 
with  the  priest  Ryoseki  before  taking  further 
action.  Therefore,  after  having  made  a careful 
examination  of  the  premises,  he  betook  himself 
to  the  temple  Shin-Banzui-ln,  as  quickly  as  his 
aged  limbs  could  bear  him. 

RySseki,  without  waiting  to  hear  the  purpose 
of  the  old  man’s  visit,  at  once  invited  him  into  a 
private  apartment. 


108  In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ You  know  that  you  are  always  welcome  here,” 
said  Ryoseki.  “ Please  seat  yourself  at  ease.  . . . 
Well,  1 am  sorry  to  tell  you  that  Hagiwara  Sama 
is  dead.” 

Yusai  wonderingly  exclaimed  : — 

“Yes,  he  is  dead  ; — but  how  did  you  learn  of 
it .?  ” 

The  priest  responded : — 

“ Hagiwara  Sama  was  suffering  from  the  results 
of  an  evil  karma ; and  his  attendant  was  a bad 
man.  What  happened  to  Hagiwara  Sama  was 
unavoidable ; — his  destiny  had  been  determined 
from  a time  long  before  his  last  birth.  It  will  be 
better  for  you  not  to  let  your  mind  be  troubled 
by  this  event.” 

Yusai  said : — 

“ 1 have  heard  that  a priest  of  pure  life  may 
gain  power  to  see  into  the  future  for  a hundred 
years ; but  truly  this  is  the  first  time  in  my  exist- 
ence that  1 have  had  proof  of  such  power.  . . . 
Still,  there  is  another  matter  about  which  I am 
very  anxious.  . . .” 

“ You  mean,”  interrupted  Ryoseki,  “ the  steal- 
ing of  the  holy  mamori,  the  Kai-On-Nydrai.  But 
you  must  not  give  yourself  any  concern  about 


A Passional  Karma 


109 


that.  The  image  has  been  buried  in  a field ; and 
it  will  be  found  there  and  returned  to  me  during 
the  eighth  month  of  the  coming  year.  So  please 
do  not  be  anxious  about  it.” 

More  and  more  amazed,  the  old  ninsomi  ven- 
tured to  observe : — 

“ I have  studied  the  hi-Yo^  and  the  science  of 
divination ; and  I make  my  living  by  telling  peo- 
ples’ fortunes ; — but  I cannot  possibly  understand 
how  you  know  these  things.” 

Ryoseki  answered  gravely  ; — 

” Never  mind  how  1 happen  to  know  them.  . . . 
1 now  want  to  speak  to  you  about  Hagiwara’s 
funeral.  The  House  of  Hagiwara  has  its  own 
family-cemetery,  of  course ; but  to  bury  him  there 
would  not  be  proper.  He  must  be  buried  beside 
O-Tsuyu,  the  Lady  lijima ; for  his  karma-relation 
to  her  was  a very  deep  one.  And  it  is  but  right 
that  you  should  erect  a tomb  for  him  at  your  own 
cost,  because  you  have  been  indebted  to  him  for 
many  favors.” 


1 The  Male  and  Female  principles  of  the  universe,  the 
Active  and  Passive  forces  of  Nature.  Yusai  refers  here 
to  the  old  Chinese  nature-philosophy, — better  known  to 
Western  readers  by  the  name  Feng-shui. 


110 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Shinzaburd  was  buried 
beside  O-Tsuyu,  in  the  cemetery  of  Shin-Banzui- 
In,  in  Yanaka-no-Sasaki. 

— Here  ends  the  story  of  the  Ghosts  in  the 
Romance  of  the  Peony-Lantern. 

# 

* * 

My  friend  asked  me  whether  the  story  had  in- 
terested me ; and  I answered  by  telling  him  that  I 
wanted  to  go  to  the  cemetery  of  Shin-Banzui-In, 
— so  as  to  realize  more  definitely  the  local  color 
of  the  author’s  studies. 

“ I shall  go  with  you  at  once,”  he  said.  “ But 
what  did  you  think  of  the  personages  ? ” 

“ To  Western  thinking,”  I made  answer,  “ Shin- 
zaburo  is  a despicable  creature,  I have  been  men- 
tally comparing  him  with  the  true  lovers  of  our 
old  ballad -literature.  They  were  only  too  glad 
to  follow  a dead  sweetheart  into  the  grave ; and 
nevertheless,  being  Christians,  they  believed  that 
they  had  only  one  human  life  to  enjoy  in  this 
world.  But  Shinzaburd  was  a Buddhist,  — with 
a million  lives  behind  him  and  a million  lives  be- 
fore him  ; and  he  was  too  selfish  to  give  up  even 
one  miserable  existence  for  the  sake  of  the  girl 


A Passional  Karma 


ill 


that  came  back  to  him  from  the  dead.  Then  he 
was  even  more  cowardly  than  selfish.  Although 
a samurai  by  birth  and  training,  he  had  to  beg  a 
priest  to  save  him  from  ghosts.  In  every  way  he 
proved  himself  contemptible ; and  O-Tsuyu  did 
quite  right  in  choking  him  to  death.” 

“ From  the  Japanese  point  of  view,  likewise,” 
my  friend  responded,  “ Shinzaburo  is  rather  con- 
temptible. But  the  use  of  this  weak  character 
helped  the  author  to  develop  incidents  that  could 
not  otherwise,  perhaps,  have  been  so  effectively 
managed.  To  my  thinking,  the  only  attractive 
character  in  the  story  is  that  of  O-Yone  : type  of 
the  old-time  loyal  and  loving  servant,  — intelli- 
gent, shrewd,  full  of  resource,  — faithful  not  only 
unto  death,  but  beyond  death.  . . . Well,  let  us  go 
to  Shin-Banzui-ln.” 

We  found  the  temple  uninteresting,  and  the 
cemetery  an  abomination  of  desolation.  Spaces 
once  occupied  by  graves  had  been  turned  into 
potato-patches.  Between  were  tombs  leaning  at 
all  angles  out  of  the  perpendicular,  tablets  made 
illegible  by  scurf,  empty  pedestals,  shattered  water- 
tanks,  and  statues  of  Buddhas  without  heads  or 
hands.  Recent  rains  had  soaked  the  black  soil,  — 
leaving  here  and  there  small  pools  of  slime  about 


112 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

which  swarms  of  tiny  frogs  were  hopping.  Every- 
thing — excepting  the  potato-patches  — seemed 
to  have  been  neglected  for  years.  In  a shed  just 
within  the  gate,  we  observed  a woman  cooking ; 
and  my  companion  presumed  to  ask  her  if  she 
knew  anything  about  the  tombs  described  in  the 
Romance  of  the  Peony-Lantern. 

“ Ah ! the  tombs  of  O-Tsuyu  and  O-Yone  ? ” 
she  responded,  smiling  ; — “you  will  find  them 
near  the  end  of  the  first  row  at  the  back  of  the 
temple  — next  to  the  statue  of  Jizo.” 

Surprises  of  this  kind  I had  met  with  elsewhere 
in  Japan. 

We  picked  our  way  between  the  rain-pools  and 
between  the  green  ridges  of  young  potatoes,  — 
whose  roots  were  doubtless  feeding  on  the  sub- 
stance of  many  another  O-Tsuyu  and  O-Yone ; 
— and  we  reached  at  last  two  lichen-eaten  tombs 
of  which  the  inscriptions  seemed  almost  obliterated. 
Beside  the  larger  tomb  was  a statue  of  Jizo,  with 
a broken  nose. 

“The  characters  are  not  easy  to  make  out,” 
said  my  friend  — “ but  wait ! ”...  He  drew  from 
his  sleeve  a sheet  of  soft  white  paper,  laid  it  over 
the  inscription,  and  began  to  rub  the  paper  with  a 
lump  of  clay.  As  he  did  so,  the  characters  ap- 
peared in  white  on  the  blackened  surface. 


A Passional  Karma 


113 


“ ‘ Eleventh  day,  third  month  — Rat,  Elder 
Brother,  Fire  — Sixth  year  of  Horeki  [a.  d. 
1756].’  . . . This  would  seem  to  be  the  grave  of 
some  innkeeper  of  Nedzu,  named  Kichibei.  Let 
us  see  what  is  on  the  other  monument.” 

With  a fresh  sheet  of  paper  he  presently  brought 
out  the  text  of  a kaimyd,  and  read,  — 

“ ‘ En-myo-ln,  Hd-yo-l-tei-ken-shi,  Hd-ni  ’ : — 
‘ Nun-of-the-Lav),  Illustrious,  P nr e-of -heart -and- 
veill,  Famed-in-the-Lav) , — inhabiting  the  Man- 
sion-of-the-Preaching-of -Wonder.'  . . . The  grave 
of  some  Buddhist  nun.” 

“ What  utter  humbug  ! ” 1 exclaimed.  “ That 
woman  was  only  making  fun  of  us.” 

“ Now,”  my  friend  protested,  “ you  are  unjust 
to  the  woman ! You  came  here  because  you 
wanted  a sensation ; and  she  tried  her  very  best 
to  please  you.  You  did  not  suppose  that  ghost- 
story  was  true,  did  you  ? ” 


‘I- 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha 

$ 

I 

I WAS  recently  surprised  to  find,  in  An- 
derson’s catalogue  of  Japanese  and  Chinese 
paintings  in  the  British  Museum,  this  re- 
markable statement : — “It  is  to  be  noted  that 
in  Japan  the  figure  of  the  Buddha  is  never  repre- 
sented by  the  feet,  or  pedestal  alone,  as  in  the 
AmravStt  remains,  and  many  other  Indian  art- 
relics.”  As  a matter  of  fact  the  representation 
is  not  even  rare  in  Japan.  It  is  to  be  found  not 
only  upon  stone  monuments,  but  also  in  reli- 
gious paintings,  — especially  certain  kakemono 
suspended  in  temples.  These  kakemono  usually 
display  the  footprints  upon  a very  large  scale, 
with  a multitude  of  mystical  symbols  and  char- 
acters. The  sculptures  may  be  less  common  ; but 
in  Tokyo  alone  there  are  a number  of  ^utsu- 
soku-seki,  or  “ Buddha-foot  stones,”  which  1 
have  seen,  — and  probably  several  which  I have 


118  In  Ghostly  Japan 

not  seen.  There  is  one  at  the  temple  of  Eko- 
In,  near  Ryogoku-bashi ; one  at  the  temple  of 
Dentsu-ln,  in  Koishikawa ; one  at  the  temple  of 
Denbo-ln,  in  Asakusa ; and  a beautiful  example 
at  Zojoji  in  Shiba.  These  are  not  cut  out  of  a 
single  block,  but  are  composed  of  fragments  ce- 
mented into  the  irregular  traditional  shape,  and 
capped  with  a heavy  slab  of  Nebukawa  granite, 
on  the  polished  surface  of  which  the  design  is 
engraved  in  lines  about  one-tenth  of  an  inch  in 
depth.  1 should  judge  the  average  height  of 
these  pedestals  to  be  about  two  feet  four  inches, 
and  their  greatest  diameter  about  three  feet. 
Around  the  footprints  there  are  carved  (in  most 
of  the  examples)  twelve  little  bunches  of  leaves 
and  buds  of  the  Bodai-ju  (“  Bodhidruma  ”) , or 
Bodhi-tree  of  Buddhist  legend.  In  all  cases  the 
footprint  design  is  about  the  same;  but  the 
monuments  are  different  in  quality  and  finish. 
That  of  Zojoji,  — with  figures  of  divinities  cut  in 
low  relief  on  its  sides,  — is  the  most  ornate  and 
costly  of  the  four.  The  specimen  at  Eko-ln  is 
very  poor  and  plain. 

The  first  ^utsu-soku-seki  made  in  Japan  was 
that  erected  at  Todaiji,  in  Mara.  It  was  designed 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha  119 

after  a similar  monument  in  China,  said  to  be 
the  faithful  copy  of  an  Indian  original.  Con- 
cerning this  Indian  original,  the  following  tradi- 
tion is  given  in  an  old  Buddhist  book  ^ : — “In  a 
temple  of  the  province  of  Makada  [Maghada] 
there  is  a great  stone.  The  Buddha  once  trod 
upon  this  stone ; and  the  prints  of  the  soles  of 
his  feet  remain  upon  its  surface.  The  length  of 
the  Impressions  is  one  foot  and  eight  inches,'^  and 
the  width  of  them  a little  more  than  six  inches. 
On  the  sole-part  of  each  footprint  there  is  the 
impression  of  a wheel ; and  upon  each  of  the 
prints  of  the  ten  toes  there  is  a flower-like  design, 
which  sometimes  radiates  light.  When  the  Buddha 
felt  that  the  time  of  his  Nirvana  was  approach- 
ing, he  went  to  Kushina  [Kiisindra\,  and  there 
stood  upon  that  stone.  He  stood  with  his  face 
to  the  south.  Then  he  said  to  his  disciple 
Anan  [Ananda] : — ‘In  this  place  I leave 
the  impression  of  my  feet,  to  remain  for  a last 

1 The  Chinese  title  is  pronounced  by  Japanese  as  Sei- 
iki-ki.  “Sei-Iki”  (the  Country  of  the  West)  was  the  old 
Japanese  name  for  India ; and  thus  the  title  might  be  ren- 
dered, “ The  Book  about  India.”  1 suppose  this  is  the  work 
known  to  Western  scholors  as  Si-yu-ki. 

* “ One  siaku  and  eight  sun."  But  the  Japanese  foot  and 
inch  are  considerably  longer  than  the  English. 


120  In  Ghostly  Japan 

token.  Although  a king  of  this  country  will  try 
to  destroy  the  impression,  it  can  never  be  entirely 
destroyed,’  And  indeed  it  has  not  been  destroyed 
unto  this  day.  Once  a king  who  hated  Buddhism 
caused  the  top  of  the  stone  to  be  pared  off,  so  as 
to  remove  the  impression ; but  after  the  surface 
had  been  removed,  the  footprints  reappeared  upon 
the  stone.” 

Concerning  the  virtue  of  the  representation  of 
the  footprints  of  the  Buddha,  there  is  sometimes 
quoted  a text  from  the  Kwan-butsu-sanmai-kyd 
[“  Buddha-dhy^na-samadhi-sSgara-sutra  ”],  thus 
translated  for  me : — “ In  that  time  Shaka 
[“  SSkyamuni  ”]  lifted  up  his  foot.  . . . When 
the  Buddha  lifted  up  his  foot  all  could  perceive 
upon  the  sole  of  it  the  appearance  of  a wheel 
of  a thousand  spokes.  . . . And  Shaka  said : — 
‘ Whosoever  beholds  the  sign  upon  the  sole  of 
my  foot  shall  be  purified  from  all  his  faults. 
Even  he  who  beholds  the  sign  after  my  death 
shall  be  delivered  from  all  the  evil  results  of  all 
his  errors.’  ” Various  other  texts  of  Japanese 
Buddhism  affirm  that  whoever  looks  upon  the 
footprints  of  the  Buddha  “ shall  be  freed  from 
the  bonds  of  error,  and  conducted  upon  the  Way 
of  Enlightenment.” 


S rTp ADA-TRACING  AT  DeNTSU-IN,  KOISHIKAWA,  TOKYO 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha  12^ 

An  outline  of  the  footprints  as  engraved  on 
one  of  the  Japanese  pedestals^  should  have 
some  interest  even  for  persons  familiar  with 
Indian  sculptures  of  the  S’ripSda.  The  double- 
page drawing,  accompanying  this  paper,  and 
showing  both  footprints,  has  been  made  after 
the  tracing  at  Dentsu-ln,  where  the  footprints 
have  the  full  legendary  dimension.  It  will  be 
observed  that  there  are  only  seven  emblems : 
these  are  called  in  Japan  the  Shichi-Sd,  or 
“ Seven  Appearances,”  1 got  some  information 
about  them  from  the  Sho-Eko-Ho-Kwan,  — a 
book  used  by  the  Jodo  sect.  This  book  also 
contains  rough  woodcuts  of  the  footprints;  and 
one  of  them  1 reproduce  here  for  the  purpose 
of  calling  attention  to  the  curious  form  of  the 
emblems  upon  the  toes.  They  are  said  to  be 
modifications  of  the  manji,  or  svastika  (i^) ; but 
I doubt  it.  In  the  5«/sz<-soA«-s^Af-tracings,  the 
corresponding  figures  suggest  the  “ flower-like 
design  ” mentioned  in  the  tradition  of  the 
Maghada  stone ; while  the  symbols  in  the  book- 
print  suggest  fire.  Indeed  their  outline  so  much 

1 A monument  at  Nara  exhibits  the  S'npada  in  a form 
differing  considerably  from  the  design  upon  the  Tokyo 
pedestals. 


124  In  Ghostly  Japan 

resembles  the  conventional  flamelet- design  of 
Buddhist  decoration,  that  I cannot  help  thinking 
them  originally  intended  to  indicate  the  tradi- 
tional luminosity  of  the  footprints.  Moreover, 


S’ripada  showing  the  Svastika 

{From  the  (From  the  Sho-Ek6-H6-Kwan) 

Bukkv5-Hyakkwa-Zensho) 


there  is  a text  in  the  book  called  Hb-Kai-Shidai 
that  lends  support  to  this  supposition : — “ The 
sole  of  the  foot  of  the  Buddha  is  flat,  — like  the 
base  of  a toilet-stand.  . . . Upon  it  are  lines 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha  12? 

forming  the  appearance  of  a wheel  of  a thousand 
spokes.  . . . The  toes  are  slender,  round,  long, 
straight,  graceful,  and  somendmt  luminous” 

The  explanation  of  the  Seven  Appearances 
which  is  given  by  the  Sho-Eko-Ho-Kwan  cannot 
be  called  satisfactory;  but  it  is  not  without  in- 
terest in  relation  to  Japanese  popular  Buddhism. 
The  emblems  are  considered  in  the  following 
order ; — 

I.  — T!:e  Svastikd.  The  figure  upon  each  toe 
is  said  to  be  a modification  of  the  manji  ^ (j^)  ; 
and  although  1 doubt  whether  this  is  always  the 
case,  I have  observed  that  on  some  of  the  large 
kake'mono  representing  the  footprints,  the  em- 
blem really  is  the  svastika,  — not  a flamelet  nor 
a flower-shape.®  The  Japanese  commentator  ex- 
plains the  svastika  as  a symbol  of  “ everlasting 
bliss.” 

II.  — The  Fish  {Gyo).  The  fish  signifies  free- 
dom from  all  restraints.  As  in  the  water  a fish 
moves  easily  in  any  direction,  so  in  the  Buddha- 
state  the  fully-emancipated  knows  no  restraints 
or  obstructions, 

1 Lit.:  “ The  thousand-character ” sign. 

- On  some  monuments  and  drawings  there  is  a sort  of 
disk  made  by  a single  line  in  spiral,  on  each  toe, — to- 
gether with  the  image  of  a small  wheel. 


126  In  Ghostly  Japan 

III.  — 71)6  Diamond-Mace  (Jap.  Kongd-sho  ; — 
Sansc.  “ Vadjra  ”)•  Explained  as  signifying  the 
divine  force  that  “ strikes  and  breaks  all  the  lusts 
(bonno)  of  the  world.” 

IV.  — The  Conch-Shell  (Jap.  “ Mora  ”)  or 
Trumpet.  Emblem  of  the  preaching  of  the 
Law.  The  book  Shin -){phu-hutsu-ji -hen  calls  it 
the  symbol  of  the  voice  of  the  Buddha.  The 
Dai-hi-kyo  calls  it  the  token  of  the  preaching 
and  of  the  power  of  the  Mahay^a  doctrine. 
The  Dai-Nichi-Kyd  says : — “At  the  sound  of 
the  blowing  of  the  shell,  all  the  heavenly  deities 
are  tilled  with  delight,  and  come  to  hear  the 
Law.” 

V.  — The  Flower -Fase  (Jap.  “ Hanagame”). 
Emblem  of  murd,  — a mystical  word  which 
might  be  literally  rendered  as  “ not-leaking,”  — 
signifying  that  condition  of  supreme  intelligence 
triumphant  over  birth  and  death. 

VI.  — The  IVheel-of-a-Thousand-Spokes  (Sansc. 
“Tchakra”).  This  emblem,  called  in  Japanese 
Senfuku-rin-sd,  is  curiously  explained  by  various 
quotations.  The  Hokke-Monku  says : — “ The 
effect  of  a wheel  is  to  crush  something ; and  the 
effect  of  the  Buddha’s  preaching  is  to  crush  all 
delusions,  errors,  doubts,  and  superstitions.  There- 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha  127 

fore  preaching  the  doctrine  is  called,  ‘ turning  the 
Wheel.’  ”...  The  Sei-Ri-Ron  says : “ Even  as 
the  common  wheel  has  its  spokes  and  its  hub, 
so  in  Buddhism  there  are  many  branches  of  the 
Hassbi  Shodo  (‘  Eight-fold  Path,’  or  eight  rules 
of  conduct).” 

Vll.  — The  Crown  of  Brahma.  Under  the  heel 
of  the  Buddha  is  the  Treasure-Crown  (Ho-Kwan) 
of  Brahm^  (Bon-Ten-0),  — in  symbol  of  the 
Buddha’s  supremacy  above  the  gods. 

But  1 think  that  the  inscriptions  upon  any  of 
these  Butsu-sohu-sehi  will  be  found  of  more  sig- 
nificance than  the  above  imperfect  attempts  at  an 
explanation  of  the  emblems.  The  inscriptions 
upon  the  monument  at  Dentsu-ln  are  typical. 
On  different  sides  of  the  structure,  — near  the 
top,  and  placed  by  rule  so  as  to  face  certain 
points  of  the  compass,  — there  are  engraved  five 
Sanscrit  characters  which  are  symbols  of  the 
Five  Elemental  Buddhas,  together  with  scriptural 
and  commemorative  texts.  These  latter  have 
been  translated  for  me  as  follows:  — 

TJje  Ho-KO-HON-nyo-KYO  says:  — “In  that 
time,  from  beneath  his  feet,  the  Buddha  radiated 
a light  having  the  appearance  of  a wheel  of  a 


128 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

thousand  spokes.  And  all  who  saw  that  radi- 
ance became  strictly  upright,  and  obtained  the 
Supreme  Enlightenment.” 

Ihe  Kwan-Butsu-sanmai-kyo  says “ IVho- 
soever  looks  upon  the  footprints  of  the  Buddha 
shall  be  freed  from  the  results  even  of  innumer- 
able thousands  of  imperfections." 

Tloe  Butsu-SETSU-mu-ryo-ju-kyo  says “ In 
the  land  that  the  Buddha  treads  in  journeying, 
there  is  not  even  one  person  in  all  the  multitude 
of  the  villages  who  is  not  benefited.  Then 
throughout  the  world  there  is  peace  and  good 
will.  The  sun  and  the  moon  shine  clear  and 
bright.  Wind  and  rain  come  only  at  a suitable 
time.  Calamity  and  pestilence  cease.  The  coun- 
try prospers;  the  people  are  free  from  care. 
Weapons  become  useless.  All  men  reverence 
religion,  and  regulate  their  conduct  in  all  mat- 
ters with  earnestness  and  modesty.” 

[Commemorative  Text.] 

— The  Fifth  Month  of  the  Eighteenth  Year  of  Meiji,  all  the  priests  of 
this  temple  made  and  set  up  this  pedestal-stone,  bearing  the  likeness  of 
the  footprints  of  the  Buddha,  and  placed  the  same  within  the  main  court 
of  Dentsu-In,  in  order  that  the  seed  of  holy  enlightenment  might  be 
sown  for  future  time,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  advancement  of  Buddhism. 

Taijo,  priest,  — being  the  sixty-sixth  chief-priest  by  succession  of 
this  temple,  — has  respectfully  composed. 

JUNYU,  the  minor  priest,  has  reverentially  Inscribed. 


Footprints  of  the  Buddha  129 


II 

Strange  facts  crowd  into  memory  as  one  con- 
templates those  graven  footprints,  — footprints 
giant-seeming,  yet  less  so  than  the  human  per- 
sonality of  which  they  remain  the  symbol. 
Twenty-four  hundred  years  ago,  out  of  solitary 
meditation  upon  the  pain  and  the  mystery  of 
being,  the  mind  of  an  Indian  pilgrim  brought 
forth  the  highest  truth  ever  taught  to  men,  and 
in  an  era  barren  of  science  anticipated  the  utter- 
most knowledge  of  our  present  evolutional 
philosophy  regarding  the  secret  unity  of  life, 
the  endless  illusions  of  matter  and  of  mind,  and 
the  birth  and  death  of  universes.  He,  by  pure 
reason,  — and  he  alone  before  our  time, — found 
answers  of  worth  to  the  questions  of  the  Whence, 
the  Whither,  and  the  Why ; — and  he  made  with 
these  answers  another  and  a nobler  faith  than  the 
creed  of  his  fathers.  He  spoke,  and  returned  to 
his  dust ; and  the  people  worshipped  the  prints 
of  his  dead  feet,  because  of  the  love  that  he  had 
taught  them.  Thereafter  waxed  and  waned  the 
name  of  Alexander,  and  the  power  of  Rome, 
9 


130  In  Ghostly  Japan 

and  the  might  of  Islam;  — nations  arose  and 
vanished ; — cities  grew  and  were  not ; — the 
children  of  another  civilization,  vaster  than 
Rome’s,  begirdled  the  earth  with  conquest,  and 
founded  far-off  empires,  and  came  at  last  to  rule 
in  the  land  of  that  pilgrim’s  birth.  And  these, 
rich  in  the  wisdom  of  four  and  twenty  centuries, 
wondered  at  the  beauty  of  his  message,  and 
caused  all  that  he  had  said  and  done  to  be  written 
down  anew  in  languages  unborn  at  the  time 
when  he  lived  and  taught.  Still  burn  his  foot- 
prints in  the  East ; and  still  the  great  West, 
marvelling,  follows  their  gleam  to  seek  the  Su- 
preme  Enlightenment.  Even  thus,  of  old,  Mi- 
linda  the  king  followed  the  way  to  the  house  of 
Nagasena,  — at  first  only  to  question,  after  the 
subtle  method  of  the  Greeks ; yet,  later,  to 
accept  with  noble  reverence  the  nobler  method 
of  the  Master. 


Ululation 


Ululation 

$ 

SHE  is  lean  as  a wolf,  and  very  old,  — the 
white  bitch  that  guards  my  gate  at  night. 
She  played  with  most  of  the  young  men 
and  women  of  the  neighborhood  when  they  were 
boys  and  girls.  1 found  her  in  charge  of  my 
present  dwelling  on  the  day  that  1 came  to  occupy 
it.  She  had  guarded  the  place,  1 was  told,  for  a 
long  succession  of  prior  tenants  — apparently  with 
no  better  reason  than  that  she  had  been  born  in 
the  woodshed  at  the  back  of  the  house.  Whether 
well  or  ill  treated  she  had  served  all  occupants 
faultlessly  as  a watch.  The  question  of  food  as 
wages  had  never  seriously  troubled  her,  because 
most  of  the  families  of  the  street  daily  con- 
tributed to  her  support. 

She  is  gentle  and  silent,  — silent  at  least  by  day ; 
and  in  spite  of  her  gaunt  ugliness,  her  pointed 
ears,  and  her  somewhat  unpleasant  eyes,  every- 
body is  fond  of  her.  Children  ride  on  her  back, 


134  In  Ghostly  Japan 

and  tease  her  at  will ; but  although  she  has  been 
known  to  make  strange  men  feel  uncomfortable, 
she  never  growls  at  a child.  The  reward  of  her 
patient  good-nature  is  the  friendship  of  the  com- 
munity. When  the  dog-killers  come  on  their 
bi-annual  round,  the  neighbors  look  after  her 
interests.  Once  she  was  on  the  very  point  of 
being  officially  executed  when  the  wife  of  the 
smith  ran  to  the  rescue,  and  pleaded  successfully 
with  the  policeman  superintending  the  massacres. 
“ Put  somebody’s  name  on  the  dog,”  said  the 
latter : “ then  it  will  be  safe.  Whose  dog  is  it } ” 
That  question  proved  hard  to  answer.  The  dog 
was  everybody’s  and  nobody’s  — welcome  every- 
where but  owned  nowhere.  “ But  where  does 
it  stay  ? ” asked  the  puzzled  constable.  “ It 
stays,”  said  the  smith’s  wife,  “ in  the  house  of 
the  foreigner.”  “ Then  let  the  foreigner’s  name 
be  put  upon  the  dog,”  suggested  the  policeman. 

Accordingly  1 had  my  name  painted  on  her 
back  in  big  Japanese  characters.  But  the  neigh- 
bors did  not  think  that  she  was  sufficiently  safe- 
guarded by  a single  name.  So  the  priest  of 
Kobudera  painted  the  name  of  the  temple  on  her 
left  side,  in  beautiful  Chinese  text ; and  the  smith 
put  the  name  of  his  shop  on  her  right  side  ; and 


Ululation 


13? 


the  vegetable-seller  put  on  her  breast  the  ideo- 
graphs for  “ eight-hundred,”  — which  represent 
the  customary  abbreviation  of  the  word  yaoya 
(vegetable-seller),  — any  yaoya  being  supposed 
to  sell  eight  hundred  or  more  different  things. 
Consequently  she  is  now  a very  curious-look- 
ing dog ; but  she  is  well  protected  by  all  that 
calligraphy. 

I have  only  one  fault  to  find  with  her:  she 
howls  at  night.  Howling  is  one  of  the  few 
pathetic  pleasures  of  her  existence.  At  first  1 
tried  to  frighten  her  out  of  the  habit ; but  find- 
ing that  she  refused  to  take  me  seriously,  1 con- 
cluded to  let  her  howl.  It  would  have  been 
monstrous  to  beat  her. 

Yet  I detest  her  howl.  It  always  gives  me  a 
feeling  of  vague  disquiet,  like  the  uneasiness  that 
precedes  the  horror  of  nightmare.  It  makes 
me  afraid,  — indefinably,  superstitiously  afraid. 
Perhaps  what  1 am  writing  will  seem  to  you 
absurd ; but  you  would  not  think  it  absurd  if 
you  once  heard  her  howl.  She  does  not  howl 
like  the  common  street-dogs.  She  belongs  to 
some  ruder  Northern  breed,  much  more  wolfish, 
and  retaining  wild  traits  of  a very  peculiar  kind. 


136  In  Ghostly  Japan 

And  her  howl  is  also  peculiar.  It  is  incompar- 
ably weirder  than  the  howl  of  any  European  dog ; 
and  1 fancy  that  it  is  incomparably  older.  It 
may  represent  the  original  primitive  cry  of  her 
species,  — totally  unmodified  by  centuries  of 
domestication. 

It  begins  with  a stifled  moan,  like  the  moan 
of  a bad  dream,  — mounts  into  a long,  long 
wail,  like  a wailing  of  wind,  — sinks  quavering 
into  a chuckle,  — rises  again  to  a wail,  very 
much  higher  and  wilder  than  before,  — breaks 
suddenly  into  a kind  of  atrocious  laughter,  — and 
finally  sobs  itself  out  in  a plaint  like  the  crying 
of  a little  child.  The  ghastliness  of  the  perform- 
ance  is  chiefly  — though  not  entirely  — in  the 
goblin  mockery  of  the  laughing  tones  as  con- 
trasted with  the  piteous  agony  of  the  wailing 
ones:  an  incongruity  that  makes  you  think  of 
madness.  And  I imagine  a corresponding  in- 
congruity in  the  soul  of  the  creature.  1 know 
that  she  loves  me,  — that  she  would  throw  away 
her  poor  life  for  me  at  an  instant’s  notice.  I am 
sure  that  she  would  grieve  if  1 were  to  die.  But 
she  would  not  think  about  the  matter  like  other 
dogs,  — like  a dog  with  hanging  ears,  for  ex- 
ample. She  is  too  savagely  close  to  Nature  for 


Ululation 


137 


that.  Were  she  to  find  herself  alone  with  my 
corpse  in  some  desolate  place,  she  would  first 
mourn  wildly  for  her  friend ; but,  this  duty  per- 
formed, she  would  proceed  to  ease  her  sorrow  in 
the  simplest  way  possible,  — by  eating  him,  — by 
cracking  his  bones  between  those  long  wolf’s- 
teeth  of  hers.  And  thereafter,  with  spotless 
conscience,  she  would  sit  down  and  utter  to  the 
moon  the  funeral  cry  of  her  ancestors. 

It  fills  me,  that  cry,  with  a strange  curiosity  not 
less  than  with  a strange  horror,  — because  of  cer- 
tain extraordinary  vowellings  in  it  which  always 
recur  in  the  same  order  of  sequence,  and  must 
represent  particular  forms  of  animal  speech, — 
particular  ideas.  The  whole  thing  is  a song,  — a 
song  of  emotions  and  thoughts  not  human,  and 
therefore  humanly  unimaginable.  But  other  dogs 
know  what  it  means,  and  make  answer  over  the 
miles  of  the  night,  — sometimes  from  so  far  away 
that  only  by  straining  my  hearing  to  the  uttermost 
can  1 detect  the  faint  response.  The  words  — (if 
1 may  call  them  words)  — are  very  few  ; yet,  to 
judge  by  their  emotional  effect,  they  must  signify 
a great  deal.  Possibly  they  mean  things  myriads 
of  years  old,  — things  relating  to  odors,  to  ex- 
halations, to  influences  and  effluences  inapprehen- 


138  In  Ghostly  Japan 

sible  by  duller  human  sense,  — impulses  also, 
impulses  without  name,  bestirred  in  ghosts  of 
dogs  by  the  light  of  great  moons. 

Could  we  know  the  sensations  of  a dog,  — the 
emotions  and  the  ideas  of  a dog,  we  might  dis- 
cover some  strange  correspondence  between  their 
character  and  the  character  of  that  peculiar  dis- 
quiet which  the  howl  of  the  creature  evokes. 
But  since  the  senses  of  a dog  are  totally  unlike 
those  of  a man,  we  shall  never  really  know. 
And  we  can  only  surmise,  in  the  vaguest  way,  the 
meaning  of  the  uneasiness  in  ourselves.  Some 
notes  in  the  long  cry,  — and  the  weirdest  of 
them,  — oddly  resemble  those  tones  of  the  hu- 
man voice  that  tell  of  agony  and  terror.  Again, 
we  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  sound  of  the 
cry  itself  became  associated  in  human  imagination, 
at  some  period  enormously  remote,  with  particular 
impressions  of  fear.  It  is  a remarkable  fact  that 
in  almost  all  countries  (including  Japan)  the  howl- 
ing of  dogs  has  been  attributed  to  their  perception 
of  things  viewless  to  man,  and  a\vful,  — especially 
gods  and  ghosts ; — and  this  unanimity  of  super- 
stitious belief  suggests  that  one  element  of  the 
disquiet  inspired  by  the  cry  is  the  dread  of  the 


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139 


supernatural.  To-day  we  have  ceased  to  be  con- 
sciously afraid  of  the  unseen  ; — knowing  that 
we  ourselves  are  supernatural,  — that  even  the 
physical  man,  with  all  his  life  of  sense,  is  more 
ghostly  than  any  ghost  of  old  imagining : but 
some  dim  inheritance  of  the  primitive  fear  still 
slumbers  in  our  being,  and  wakens  perhaps,  like 
an  echo,  to  the  sound  of  that  wail  in  the  night. 

Whatever  thing  invisible  to  human  eyes  the 
senses  of  a dog  may  at  times  perceive,  it  can  be 
nothing  resembling  our  idea  of  a ghost.  Most 
probably  the  mysterious  cause  of  start  and  whine 
is  not  anything  seen.  There  is  no  anatomical  rea- 
son for  supposing  a dog  to  possess  exceptional 
powers  of  vision.  But  a dog’s  organs  of  scent 
proclaim  a faculty  immeasurably  superior  to  the 
sense  of  smell  in  man.  The  old  universal  belief 
in  the  superhuman  perceptivities  of  the  creature 
was  a belief  justified  by  fact ; but  the  perceptivities 
are  not  visual.  Were  the  howl  of  a dog  really  — 
as  once  supposed  — an  outcry  of  ghostly  terror, 
the  meaning  might  possibly  be,  “ I smell  Them  t ” 
— but  not,  “/  see  Them!”  No  evidence  exists 
to  support  the  fancy  that  a dog  can  see  any  forms 
of  being  which  a man  cannot  see. 


140  In  Ghostly  Japan 

But  the  night-howl  of  the  white  creature  in  my 
close  forces  me  to  wonder  whether  she  does  not 
mentally  see  something  really  terrible,  — some- 
thing which  we  vainly  try  to  keep  out  of  moral 
consciousness : the  ghoulish  law  of  life.  Nay, 
there  are  times  when  her  cry  seems  to  me  not  the 
mere  cry  of  a dog,  but  the  voice  of  the  law  itself, 
— the  very  speech  of  that  Nature  so  inexplicably 
called  by  poets  the  loving,  the  merciful,  the 
divine  ! Divine,  perhaps,  in  some  unknowable 
ultimate  way,  — but  certainly  not  merciful,  and 
still  more  certainly  not  loving.  Only  by  eating 
each  other  do  beings  exist!  Beautiful  to  the 
poet’s  vision  our  world  may  seem,  — with  its 
loves,  its  hopes,  its  memories,  its  aspirations  ; but 
there  is  nothing  beautiful  in  the  fact  that  life  is 
fed  by  continual  murder,  — that  the  tenderest 
affection,  the  noblest  enthusiasm,  the  purest  ideal- 
ism, must  be  nourished  by  the  eating  of  flesh  and 
the  drinking  of  blood.  All  life,  to  sustain  itself, 
must  devour  life.  You  may  imagine  yourself 
divine  if  you  please,  — but  you  have  to  obey  that 
law.  Be,  if  you  will,  a vegetarian  ; none  the  less 
you  must  eat  forms  that  have  feeling  and  desire. 
Sterilize  your  food ; and  digestion  stops.  You 
cannot  even  drink  without  swallowing  life.  Loathe 


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141 


the  name  as  we  may,  we  are  cannibals;  — all 
being  essentially  is  One ; and  whether  we  eat  the 
flesh  of  a plant,  a fish,  a reptile,  a bird,  a mam- 
mal,  or  a man,  the  ultimate  fact  is  the  same.  And 
for  all  life  the  end  is  the  same : every  creature, 
whether  buried  or  burnt,  is  devoured,  — and  not 
only  once  or  twice,  — nor  a hundred,  nor  a thou- 
sand, nor  a myriad  times  ! Consider  the  ground 
upon  which  we  move,  the  soil  out  of  which  we 
came  ; — think  of  the  vanished  billions  that  have 
risen  from  it  and  crumbled  back  into  its  latency 
to  feed  what  becomes  our  food ! Perpetually  we 
eat  the  dust  of  our  race,  — the  substance  of  our 
ancient  selves. 

But  even  so-called  inanimate  matter  is  self- 
devouring.  Substance  preys  upon  substance.  As 
in  the  droplet  monad  swallows  monad,  so  in  the 
vast  of  Space  do  spheres  consume  each  other. 
Stars  give  being  to  worlds  and  devour  them; 
planets  assimilate  their  own  moons.  All  is  a 
ravening  that  never  ends  but  to  recommence. 
And  unto  whomsoever  thinks  about  these  matters, 
the  story  of  a divine  universe,  made  and  ruled 
by  paternal  love,  sounds  less  persuasive  than  the 
Polynesian  tale  that  the  souls  of  the  dead  are 
devoured  by  the  gods. 


142  In  Ghostly  Japan 

Monstrous  the  law  seems,  because  we  have 
developed  ideas  and  sentiments  which  are  op- 
posed to  this  demoniac  Nature,  — much  as  vol- 
untary movement  is  opposed  to  the  blind  power 
of  gravitation.  But  the  possession  of  such  ideas 
and  sentiments  does  but  aggravate  the  atrocity 
of  our  situation,  without  lessening  in  the  least 
the  gloom  of  the  final  problem. 

Anyhow  the  faith  of  the  Far  East  meets  that 
problem  better  than  the  faith  of  the  West.  To 
the  Buddhist  the  Cosmos  is  not  divine  at  all  — 
quite  the  reverse.  It  is  Karma ; — it  is  the  crea- 
tion of  thoughts  and  acts  of  error ; — it  is  not 
governed  by  any  providence;  — it  is  a ghastli- 
ness,  a nightmare.  Likewise  it  is  an  illusion. 
It  seems  real  only  for  the  same  reason  that  the 
shapes  and  the  pains  of  an  evil  dream  seem  real 
to  the  dreamer.  Our  life  upon  earth  is  a state 
of  sleep.  Yet  we  do  not  sleep  utterly.  There 
are  gleams  in  our  darkness,  — faint  auroral 
wakenings  of  Love  and  Pity  and  Sympathy  and 
Magnanimity : these  are  selfless  and  true ; — 
these  are  eternal  and  divine;  — these  are  the 
Four  Infinite  Feelings  in  whose  after-glow  all 
forms  and  illusions  will  vanish,  like  mists  in  the 
light  of  the  sun.  But,  except  in  so  far  as  we 


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143 


wake  to  these  feelings,  we  are  dreamers  indeed, 
— moaning  unaided  in  darkness,  — tortured  by 
shadowy  horror.  All  of  us  dream ; none  are 
fully  awake ; and  many,  who  pass  for  the  wise 
of  the  world,  know  even  less  of  the  truth  than 
my  dog  that  howls  in  the  night. 

Could  she  speak,  my  dog,  I think  that  she 
might  ask  questions  which  no  philosopher  would 
be  able  to  answer.  For  I believe  that  she  is  tor- 
mented by  the  pain  of  existence.  Of  course  I 
do  not  mean  that  the  riddle  presents  itself  to  her 
as  it  does  to  us,  — nor  that  she  can  have  reached 
any  abstract  conclusions  by  any  mental  processes 
like  our  own.  The  external  world  to  her  is  “ a 
continuum  of  smells.”  She  thinks,  compares,  re- 
members, reasons  by  smells.  By  smell  she  makes 
her  estimates  of  character : all  her  judgments 
are  founded  upon  smells.  Smelling  thousands  of 
things  which  we  cannot  smell  at  all,  she  must 
comprehend  them  in  a way  of  which  we  can 
form  no  idea.  Whatever  she  knows  has  been 
learned  through  mental  operations  of  an  utterly 
unimaginable  kind.  But  we  may  be  tolerably 
sure  that  she  thinks  about  most  things  in  some 
odor-relation  to  the  experience  of  eating  or  to 


144  In  Ghostly  Japan 

the  intuitive  dread  of  being  eaten.  Certainly  she 
knows  a great  deal  more  about  the  earth  on 
which  we  tread  than  would  be  good  for  us  to 
know;  and  probably,  if  capable  of  speech,  she 
could  tell  us  the  strangest  stories  of  air  and 
water.  Gifted,  or  afflicted,  as  she  is  with  such 
terribly  penetrant  power  of  sense,  her  notion  of 
apparent  realities  must  be  worse  than  sepulchral. 
Small  wonder  if  she  howl  at  the  moon  that 
shines  upon  such  a world  ! 

And  yet  she  is  more  awake,  in  the  Buddhist 
meaning,  than  many  of  us.  She  possesses  a 
rude  moral  code  — inculcating  loyalty,  submis- 
sion, gentleness,  gratitude,  and  maternal  love ; 
together  with  various  minor  rules  of  conduct; 
— and  this  simple  code  she  has  always  observed. 
By  priests  her  state  is  termed  a state  of  darkness 
of  mind,  because  she  cannot  learn  all  that  men 
should  learn ; but  according  to  her  light  she  has 
done  well  enough  to  merit  some  better  condition 
in  her  next  rebirth.  So  think  the  people  who 
know  her.  When  she  dies  they  will  give  her 
an  humble  funeral,  and  have  a sutra  recited  on 
behalf  of  her  spirit.  The  priest  will  let  a grave 
be  made  for  her  somewhere  in  the  temple-garden, 
and  will  place  over  it  a little  sotoba  bearing  the 


Ululation 


14? 

text,  — Nyo-:^e  cUkusho  hotsu  Bodai-sUn  ^ : 
“ Even  within  such  as  this  animal,  the  Knowl- 
edge Supreme  will  unfold  at  last.” 

1 Lit.,  “ the  Bodhi-mind ; ” — that  is  to  say,  the  Supreme 
Enlightenment,  the  intelligence  of  Buddhahood  itself. 


10 


Bits  of  Poetry 


Bits  of  Poetry 


Among  a people  with  whom  poetry  Has 
been  for  centuries  a universal  fashion  of 
emotional  utterance,  we  should  naturally 
suppose  the  common  ideal  of  life  to  be  a noble 
one.  However  poorly  the  upper  classes  of  such 
a people  might  compare  with  those  of  other 
nations,  we  could  scarcely  doubt  that  its  lower 
classes  were  morally  and  otherwise  in  advance 
of  our  own  lower  classes.  And  the  Japanese 
actually  present  us  with  such  a social  phenom- 
enon. 

Poetry  in  Japan  is  universal  as  the  air.  It  is 
felt  by  everybody.  It  is  read  by  everybody.  It 
is  composed  by  almost  everybody,  — irrespective 
of  class  and  condition.  Nor  is  it  thus  ubiquitous 
in  the  mental  atmosphere  only  : it  is  everywhere 
to  be  heard  by  the  ear,  and  seen  by  the  eye  ! 


1^0  In  Ghostly  Japan 

As  for  audible  poetry,  wherever  there  is  work- 
ing there  is  singing.  The  toil  of  the  fields  and 
the  labor  of  the  streets  are  performed  to  the 
rhythm  of  chanted  verse ; and  song  would  seem 
to  be  an  expression  of  the  life  of  the  people  in 
about  the  same  sense  that  it  is  an  expression  of 
the  life  of  cicada.  ...  As  for  visible  poetry, 
it  appears  everywhere,  written  or  graven,  — in 
Chinese  or  in  Japanese  characters,  — as  a form 
of  decoration.  In  thousands  and  thousands  of 
dwellings,  you  might  observe  that  the  sliding- 
screens,  separating  rooms  or  closing  alcoves, 
have  Chinese  or  Japanese  decorative  texts  upon 
them  ; — and  these  texts  are  poems.  In  houses 
of  the  better  class  there  are  usually  a number  of 
gaku,  or  suspended  tablets  to  be  seen,  — each 
bearing,  for  all  design,  a beautifully  written 
verse.  But  poems  can  be  found  upon  almost 
any  kind  of  domestic  utensil,  — for  example 
upon  braziers,  iron  kettles,  vases,  wooden  trays, 
lacquer  ware,  porcelains,  chopsticks  of  the  finer 
sort,  — even  toothpicks ! Poems  are  painted  upon 
shop-signs,  panels,  screens,  and  fans.  Poems  are 
printed  upon  towels,  draperies,  curtains,  kerchiefs, 
silk-linings,  and  women’s  crepe-silk  underwear. 
Poems  are  stamped  or  worked  upon  letter- 


Bits  of  Poetry  1^1 

paper,  envelopes,  purses,  mirror-cases,  travelling- 
bags.  Poems  are  inlaid  upon  enamelled  ware, 
cut  upon  bronzes,  graven  upon  metal  pipes,  em- 
broidered upon  tobacco-pouches.  It  were  a 
hopeless  effort  to  enumerate  a tithe  of  the  arti- 
cles decorated  with  poetical  texts.  Probably 
my  readers  know  of  those  social  gatherings  at 
which  it  is  the  custom  to  compose  verses,  and  to 
suspend  the  compositions  to  blossoming  trees,  — 
also  of  the  Tanabata  festival  in  honor  of  certain 
astral  gods,  when  poems  inscribed  on  strips  of 
colored  paper,  and  attached  to  thin  bamboos,  are 
to  be  seen  even  by  the  roadside,  — all  fluttering 
in  the  wind  like  so  many  tiny  flags.  . . . Per- 
haps you  might  find  your  way  to  some  Japanese 
hamlet  in  which  there  are  neither  trees  nor 
flowers,  but  never  to  any  hamlet  in  which  there 
is  no  visible  poetry.  You  might  wander,  — as  1 
have  done,  — into  a settlement  so  poor  that  you 
could  not  obtain  there,  for  love  or  money,  even 
a cup  of  real  tea  ; but  I do  not  believe  that  you 
could  discover  a settlement  in  which  there  is 
nobody  capable  of  making  a poem. 


1?2 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


II 

Recently  while  looking  over  a manuscript- 
collection  of  verses,  — mostly  short  poems  of  an 
emotional  or  descriptive  character,  — it  occurred 
to  me  that  a selection  from  them  might  serve  to 
illustrate  certain  Japanese  qualities  of  sentiment, 
as  well  as  some  little-known  Japanese  theories  of 
artistic  expression,  — and  I ventured  forthwith 
upon  this  essay.  The  poems,  which  had  been 
collected  for  me  by  different  persons  at  many 
different  times  and  places,  were  chiefly  of  the 
kind  written  on  particular  occasions,  and  cast 
into  forms  more  serried,  if  not  also  actually 
briefer,  than  anything  in  Western  prosody. 
Probably  few  of  my  readers  are  aware  of  two 
curious  facts  relating  to  this  order  of  composition. 
Both  facts  are  exemplified  in  the  history  and  in 
the  texts  of  my  collection,  — though  I cannot 
hope,  in  my  renderings,  to  reproduce  the  orig- 
inal  effect,  whether  of  imagery  or  of  feeling. 

The  first  curious  fact  is  that,  from  very  ancient 
times,  the  writing  of  short  poems  has  been  prac- 
tised in  Japan  even  more  as  a moral  duty  than 


1^3 


Bits  of  Poetry 

as  a mere  literary  art.  The  old  ethical  teaching 
was  somewhat  like  this : — “ Are  you  very 
angry  ? — do  not  say  anything  unkind,  but  com- 
pose a poem.  Is  your  best-beloved  dead  — do 
not  yield  to  useless  grief,  but  try  to  calm  your 
mind  by  making  a poem.  Are  you  troubled 
because  you  are  about  to  die,  leaving  so  many 
things  unfinished  ? — be  brave,  and  write  a poem 
on  death!  Whatever  injustice  or  misfortune 
disturbs  you,  put  aside  your  resentment  or  your 
sorrow  as  soon  as  possible,  and  write  a few  lines 
of  sober  and  elegant  verse  for  a moral  exercise.” 
Accordingly,  in  the  old  days,  every  form  of 
trouble  was  encountered  with  a poem.  Bereave- 
ment, separation,  disaster  called  forth  verses  in 
lieu  of  plaints.  The  lady  who  preferred  death 
to  loss  of  honor,  composed  a poem  before  pierc- 
ing her  throat.  The  samurai  sentenced  to  die 
by  his  own  hand,  wrote  a poem  before  perform- 
ing hara-kiri.  Even  in  this  less  romantic  era  of 
Meiji,  young  people  resolved  upon  suicide  are 
wont  to  compose  some  verses  before  quitting  the 
world.  Also  it  is  still  the  good  custom  to  write  a 
poem  in  time  of  ill-fortune.  I have  frequently 
known  poems  to  be  written  under  the  most  try- 
ing circumstances  of  misery  or  suffering,  — nay, 


1^4  In  Ghostly  Japan 

even  upon  a bed  of  death ; — and  if  the  verses 
did  not  display  any  extraordinary  talent,  they  at 
least  afforded  extraordinary  proof  of  self-mastery 
under  pain.  . . . Surely  this  fact  of  composition 
as  ethical  practice  has  larger  interest  than  all  the 
treatises  ever  written  about  the  rules  of  Japanese 
prosody. 

The  other  curious  fact  is  only  a fact  of  assthetic 
theory.  The  common  art-principle  of  the  class 
of  poems  under  present  consideration  is  identical 
with  the  common  principle  of  Japanese  pictorial 
illustration.  By  the  use  of  a few  chosen  words 
the  composer  of  a short  poem  endeavors  to  do 
exactly  what  the  painter  endeavors  to  do  with  a 
few  strokes  of  the  brush,  — to  evoke  an  image 
or  a mood,  — to  revive  a sensation  or  an  emotion. 
And  the  accomplishment  of  this  purpose,  — by 
poet  or  by  picture-maker, — depends  altogether 
upon  capacity  to  suggest,  and  only  to  suggest. 
A Japanese  artist  would  be  condemned  for  at- 
tempting elaboration  of  detail  in  a sketch  intended 
to  recreate  the  memory  of  some  landscape  seen 
through  the  blue  haze  of  a spring  morning,  or 
under  the  great  blond  light  of  an  autumn  after- 
noon. Not  only  would  he  be  false  to  the  tradi- 


Bits  of  Poetry  \SS 

tions  of  his  art : he  would  necessarily  defeat  his 
own  end  thereby.  In  the  same  way  a poet  would 
be  condemned  for  attempting  any  completeness 
of  utterance  in  a very  short  poem : his  object 
should  be  only  to  stir  imagination  without  satis- 
fying it.  So  the  term  ittakkiri  — meaning  “all 
gone,”  or  “ entirely  vanished,”  in  the  sense  of 
“ all  told,”  — is  contemptuously  applied  to  verses 
in  which  the  verse-maker  has  uttered  his  whole 
thought ; — praise  being  reserved  for  composi- 
tions that  leave  in  the  mind  the  thrilling  of 
a something  unsaid.  Like  the  single  stroke  of 
a temple-bell,  the  perfect  short  poem  should 
set  murmuring  and  undulating,  in  the  mind  of 
the  hearer,  many  a ghostly  aftertone  of  long 
duration. 


Ill 

But  for  the  same  reason  that  Japanese  short 
poems  may  be  said  to  resemble  Japanese  pictures, 
a full  comprehension  of  them  requires  an  inti- 
mate knowledge  of  the  life  which  they  reflect. 
And  this  is  especially  true  of  the  emotional  class 
of  such  poems,  — a literal  translation  of  which, 


1^6  In  Ghostly  Japan 

in  the  majority  of  cases,  would  signify  almost 
nothing  to  the  Western  mind.  Here,  for  ex- 
ample, is  a little  verse,  pathetic  enough  to  Japan- 
ese comprehension : — 

Chocho  nil.. 

Kyonen  shishitaru 
Tsuma  koishi ! 

Translated,  this  would  appear  to  mean  only,  — 
“ Two  butterflies ! . . . Last  year  my  dear 
wife  died ! '"  Unless  you  happen  to  know  the 
pretty  Japanese  symbolism  of  the  butterfly  in 
relation  to  happy  marriage,  and  the  old  custom 
of  sending  with  the  wedding-gift  a large  pair  of 
paper-butterflies  (ochd-mecbd),  the  verse  might 
well  seem  to  be  less  than  commonplace.  Or 
take  this  recent  composition,  by  a University 
student,  which  has  been  praised  by  good 
judges : — 

Furusato  ni 
Fubo  ari  — mushi  no 

Koe-goe ! i 

— “ In  my  native  place  the  old  folks  [or,  my 
parents']  are  — clamor  of  insect-voices 

1 1 must  observe,  however,  that  the  praise  was  especially 
evoked  by  the  use  of  the  term  ko'6-goc — (literally  meaning 
“ voice  after  voice  ” or  a crying  of  many  voices) ; — and 
the  special  value  of  the  syllables  here  can  be  appreciated 
only  by  a Japanese  poet. 


Bits  of  Poetry  1?7 

The  poet  here  is  a country-lad.  In  unfamiliar 
fields  he  listens  to  the  great  autumn  chorus  of 
insects ; and  the  sound  revives  for  him  the  mem- 
ory of  his  far-off  home  and  of  his  parents.  . . . 
But  here  is  something  incomparably  more  touch- 
ing,— though  in  literal  translation  probably 
more  obscure,  — than  either  of  the  preceding 
specimens : — 

Mi  ni  shimiru 
Kazd  ya  I 
Shoji  ni 
Yubi  no  ato  I 

— “ Oh,  body-piercing  v>ind  I — that  work  of 
little  fingers  in  the  shoji  / ” ^ . . . What  does 
this  mean  I It  means  the  sorrowing  of  a mother 
for  her  dead  child.  Shoji  is  the  name  given  to 
those  light  white- paper  screens  which  in  a Jap- 
anese house  serve  both  as  windows  and  doors,  — 
admitting  plenty  of  light,  but  concealing,  like 
frosted  glass,  the  interior  from  outer  observation, 
and  excluding  the  wind.  Infants  delight  to  break 
these  by  poking  their  fingers  through  the  soft 
paper : then  the  wind  blows  through  the  holes. 
In  this  case  the  wind  blows  very  cold  indeed,  — 
into  the  mother’s  very  heart ; — for  it  comes 

^ More  literally  : — “ body-through-pierce  wind  — ah  I 

— shoji-\a  the  traces  of  [viz. : holes  made  by]  fingers  1 ” 


H8  In  Ghostly  Japan 

through  the  little  holes  that  were  made  by  the 
fingers  of  her  dead  child. 

The  impossibility  of  preserving  the  inner  quality 
of  such  poems  in  a literal  rendering,  will  now  be 
obvious.  Whatever  1 attempt  in  this  direction 
must  of  necessity  be  ittakkiri;  — for  the  un- 
spoken has  to  be  expressed ; and  what  the 
Japanese  poet  is  able  to  say  in  seventeen  or 
twenty -one  syllables  may  need  in  English  more 
than  double  that  number  of  words.  But  perhaps 
this  fact  will  lend  additional  interest  to  the  fol- 
lowing atoms  of  emotional  expression : — 

A Mother’s  Remembrance 

Sweet  and  clear  in  the  night,  the  voice  of  a boy  at  study, 
Reading  out  of  a book.  ...  I also  once  had  a boy  ! 

A Memory  in  Spring 

She  who,  departing  hence,  left  to  the  flowers  of  the  plum- 
tree. 

Blooming  beside  our  eaves,  the  charm  of  her  youth  and  beauty 
And  maiden  pureness  of  heart,  to  quicken  their  flush  and 
fragrance,  — 

Ah  I where  does  she  dwell  to-day,  our  dear  little  vanished 
sister  ? 

Fancies  of  Another  Faith 

(i)  I sought  in  the  place  of  graves  the  tomb  of  my  vanished 
friend : 

From  ancient  cedars  above  there  rippled  a wild  dove's  cry. 


Bits  of  Poetry  1?9 

(2)  Perhaps  a freak  of  the  wind — yet  perhaps  a sign  of  re- 
memhrance,  — 

This  fall  of  a single  leaf  on  the  water  / pour  for  the  dead. 

ij)  / whispered  a prayer  at  the  grave:  a butterfly  rose  and 
fluttered  — 

Thy  spirit,  perhaps,  dear  friend  ! . . . 

IN  A Cemetery  at  Night 

This  light  of  the  moon  that  plays  on  the  water  I pour  for  the 
dead. 

Differs  nothing  at  all  from  the  moonlight  of  other  years. 

After  Long  Absence 

The  garden  that  once  I loved,  and  even  the  hedge  of  the  gar- 
den, — 

/ill  is  changed  and  strange : the  moonlight  only  is  faithful ; — 
The  moon  alone  remembers  the  charm  of  the  time  gone  by ! 

Moonlight  on  the  Sea 

O vapory  moon  of  spring  I — would  that  one  plunge  into  ocean 
Could  win  me  renewal  of  life  as  a part  of  thy  light  on  the 
waters  ! 


After  Farewell 

IVhither  now  should  I look  ? — where  is  the  place  of  parting  ? 
Boundaries  all  have  vanished ; — nothing  tells  of  direction  : 
Only  the  waste  of  sea  under  the  shining  moon  ! 

Happy  Poverty 

IVafted  into  my  room,  the  scent  of  the  flowers  of  the  plum-tree 
Changes  my  broken  window  into  a source  of  delight. 


160 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


Autumn  Fancies 

(1 ) Faded  the  clover  now  ; — sere  and  withered  the  grasses : 
fVhat  dreams  the  matsumusbi^  in  the  desotate  autumn- 

fields  ? 

(2)  Strangely  sad,  I thought,  sounded  the  bell  of  evening;  — 
Haply  that  tone  proclaimed  the  night  in  which  autumn  dies  ! 

(3)  Viewing  this  autumn-moon,  I dream  of  my  native  village 
Under  the  same  soft  light,  — and  the  shadows  about  my 

home. 

In  Time  of  Grief,  Hearing  a Semi  (Cicada) 

Only  “ /,”  “ I,"  — the  cry  of  the  foolish  semi! 

Any  one  knows  that  the  world  is  void  as  its  cast-off  shell. 

On  the  Cast-off  Shell  of  a Semi 

Only  the  pitiful  busk  ! ...  O poor  singer  of  summer, 
JVberefore  thus  consume  all  thy  body  in  song  ? 

Sublimity  of  Intellectual  Power 

The  mind  that,  undimmed,  absorbs  the  foul  and  the  pure  to- 
gether — 

Call  it  rather  a sea  one  thousand  fathoms  deep ! * 


* A musical  cricket — calyptotryphus  marmoratus, 

2 This  is  quite  novel  in  its  way, — a product  of  the  Uni- 
versity : the  original  runs  thus : — 

Nigor^ru  mo 
Sumeru  mo  tomo  ni 
Iruru  koso 
Chi-hiro  no  umi  no 
Kokoro  nari-ker^  I 


Bits  of  Poetry 


161 


Shinto  Revery 

Mad  waves  devour  the  rocks : I ask  myself  in  the  darkness, 
“ Have  / become  a god  ? ” Dim  is  the  night  and  wild  ! 


“ Have  I become  a god  ? ” — that  is  to  say,  “ Have 
1 died  ? — am  I only  a ghost  in  this  desolation  ? ” 
The  dead,  becoming  hami  or  gods,  are  thought  to 
haunt  wild  solitudes  by  preference. 


IV 

The  poems  above  rendered  are  more  than  pic- 
torial : they  suggest  something  of  emotion  or  sen- 
timent. But  there  are  thousands  of  pictorial  poems 
that  do  not ; and  these  would  seem  mere  insipidi- 
ties to  a reader  ignorant  of  their  true  purpose. 
When  you  learn  that  some  exquisite  text  of  gold 
means  only,  “ Evening-sunlight  on  the  wings  of 
the  water-fowl,”  — or,  “ Now  in  my  garden  the 
flowers  bloom,  and  the  butterflies  dance  f — then 
your  first  interest  in  decorative  poetry  is  apt  to 
wither  away.  Yet  these  little  texts  have  a very 
real  merit  of  their  own,  and  an  intimate  relation 
to  Japanese  esthetic  feeling  and  experience.  Like 
the  pictures  upon  screens  and  fans  and  cups,  they 


II 


162 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

give  pleasure  by  recalling  impressions  of  nature, 
by  reviving  happy  incidents  of  travel  or  pilgrimage, 
by  evoking  the  memory  of  beautiful  days.  And 
when  this  plain  fact  is  fully  understood,  the  per- 
sistent  attachment  of  modem  Japanese  poets  — 
notwithstanding  their  University  training  — to  the 
ancient  poetical  methods,  will  be  found  reasonable 
enough. 

1 need  offer  only  a very  few  specimens  of  the 
purely  pictorial  poetry.  The  following  — mere 
thumb-nail  sketches  in  verse  — are  of  recent  date. 

Lonesomeness 

Furu-dera  ya : 

Kan^  mono  iwazu; 

Sakura  chiru. 

— “ Old  temple : hell  voiceless ; cherry -flowers 
falir 

Morning  Awakening  after  a Night’s  Rest  in  a 
Temple 

Yamadera  no 
Shicho  ak^yuku: 

Taki  no  oto. 

— “ /«  the  mountain-temple  the  paper  mosquito- 
curtain  is  lighted  hy  the  dawn : sound  of  water- 
fall:' 


Bits  of  Poetry 


163 


Winter-Scene 

Yuki  no  mura; 

Niwatori  nait^ ; 

Ak^  shiroshi. 

— “ Snow-village ; — cocks  crowing  ; — white 
dawn" 

Let  me  conclude  this  gossip  on  poetry  by  citing 
from  another  group  of  verses  — also  pictorial,  in  a 
certain  sense,  but  chiefly  remarkable  for  ingenuity 

— two  curiosities  of  impromptu.  The  first  is  old, 
and  is  attributed  to  the  famous  poetess  Chiyo. 
Having  been  challenged  to  make  a poem  of  seven- 
teen syllables  referring  to  a square,  a triangle,  and 
a circle,  she  is  said  to  have  immediately  re- 
sponded, — 

Kaya  no  td  wo 
Hitotsu  hazushit^, 

Tsuki-mi  kana  I' 

— “ Detaching  one  corner  of  the  mosquito-net , 
lo ! I behold  the  moon ! ” The  top  of  the 
mosquito-net,  suspended  by  cords  at  each  of  its 
four  corners,  represents  the  square ; — letting 
down  the  net  at  one  comer  converts  the  square 
into  a triangle;  — and  the  moon  represents  the 
circle. 


164 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

The  other  curiosity  is  a recent  impromptu  effort 
to  portray,  in  one  verse  of  seventeen  syllables,  the 
last  degree  of  devil-may -care-poverty,  — perhaps 


Square 


Triangle 


the  brave  misery  of  the  wandering  student ; — 
and  I very  much  doubt  whether  the  effort  could 
be  improved  upon  : — 

Nusundaru 
Kagashi  no  kasa  ni 
Ame  kyu  nari. 

— “ Heavily  pours  the  rain  on  the  hat  that  I 
stole  from  the  scarecrow  ! " 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs 

9 


AS  representing  that  general  quality  of 
moral  experience  which  remains  almost 
unaffected  by  social  modifications  of  any 
sort,  the  proverbial  sayings  of  a people  must 
always  possess  a special  psychological  interest 
for  thinkers.  In  this  kind  of  folklore  the  oral 
and  the  written  literature  of  Japan  is  rich  to  a 
degree  that  would  require  a large  book  to  ex- 
emplify. To  the  subject  as  a whole  no  justice 
could  be  done  within  the  limits  of  a single  essay. 
But  for  certain  classes  of  proverbs  and  proverbial 
phrases  something  can  be  done  within  even 
a few  pages ; and  sayings  related  to  Buddhism, 
either  by  allusion  or  derivation,  form  a class 
which  seems  to  me  particularly  worthy  of  study. 
Accordingly,  with  the  help  of  a Japanese  friend, 
1 have  selected  and  translated  the  following  series 
of  examples,  — choosing  the  more  simple  and 


168 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

familiar  where  choice  was  possible,  and  placing 
the  originals  in  alphabetical  order  to  facilitate  ref- 
erence. Of  course  the  selection  is  imperfectly 
representative;  but  it  will  serve  to  illustrate 
certain  effects  of  Buddhist  teaching  upon  popular 
thought  and  speech. 

1 . — Akuji  mi  ni  tomaru. 

All  evil  done  clings  to  the  body.^ 

2.  — Atama  soruyori  kohoro  wo  sore. 

Better  to  shave  the  heart  than  to  shave  the 

head.'^ 

3.  — All  wa  wakare  no  hajime. 

Meeting  is  only  the  beginning  of  separation.® 

1 The  consequence  of  any  evil  act  or  thought  never,  — 
so  long  as  karma  endures,  — will  cease  to  act  upon  the  ex- 
istence of  the  person  guilty  of  it. 

2 Buddhist  nuns  and  priests  have  their  heads  completely 
shaven.  The  proverb  signifies  that  it  is  better  to  correct 
the  heart,  — to  conquer  all  vain  regrets  and  desires,  — than 
to  become  a religious.  In  common  parlance  the  phrase 
“ to  shave  the  head  ” means  to  become  a monk  or  a nun. 

® Regret  and  desire  are  equally  vain  in  this  world  of  im- 
permanency;  for  all  joy  is  the  beginning  of  an  experience 
that  must  have  its  pain.  This  proverb  refers  directly  to 
the  sutra-text, — Shoja  hitsumetsu  e-sha-jori,  — “ All  that  live 
must  surely  die;  and  all  that  meet  will  surely  part.” 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  169 

4.  — Banji  wayimL 

All  things  ^ are  merely  dreams. 

5.  — Bonbu  mo  satoreba  hotohe  nari. 

Even  a common  man  by  obtaining  knowledge 
becomes  a Buddha.^ 

6.  — Bound  kund. 

All  lust  is  grief.® 

7.  — Biippd  to  -wara-ya  no  ame,  dete  kike. 

One  must  go  outside  to  hear  Buddhist  doctrine 

or  the  sound  of  rain  on  a straw  roof.^ 

8.  — Biisshd  enyori  okoru. 

Out  of  karma-relation  even  the  divine  nature 
itself  grows.® 

1 Literally,  “ ten  thousand  things.” 

* The  only  real  differences  of  condition  are  differences 
in  knowledge  of  the  highest  truth. 

® All  sensual  desire  invariably  brings  sorrow. 

* There  is  an  allusion  here  to  the  condition  of  the 
shukke  (priest) : literally,  “ one  who  has  left  his  house.” 
The  proverb  suggests  that  the  higher  truths  of  Buddhism 
cannot  be  acquired  by  those  who  continue  to  live  in  the 
world  of  follies  and  desires. 

^ There  is  good  as  well  as  bad  karma.  Whatever  hap- 
piness we  enjoy  is  not  less  a consequence  of  the  acts  and 
thoughts  of  previous  lives,  than  is  any  misfortune  that 


170  In  Ghostly  Japan 

9.  — Enho  ga  tsuhi  wo  toran  to  suru  ga 
gotoshi. 

Like  monkeys  trying  to  snatch  the  moon’s 
reflection  on  water.^ 

10.  — En  naki  shujo  wa  doshi  gatashi. 

To  save  folk  having  no  karma-relation  would 
be  difficult  indeed ! 

11.  — Fujo  seppo  suru  hoshi  wa,  hiratake  ni 
umaru. 

The  priest  who  preaches  foul  doctrine  shall  be 
reborn  as  a fungus. 

comes  to  us.  Every  good  thought  and  act  contributes  to 
the  evolution  of  the  Buddha-nature  within  each  of  us. 
Another  proverb  [No.  10],  — En  naki  shujo  u-a  doshi 
gatashi,  — further  illustrates  the  meaning  of  this  one. 

1 Allusion  to  a parable,  said  to  have  been  related  by  the 
Buddha  himself,  about  some  monkeys  who  found  a well 
under  a tree,  and  mistook  for  reality  the  image  of  the  moon 
in  the  water.  They  resolved  to  seize  the  bright  apparition. 
One  monkey  suspended  himself  by  the  tail  from  a branch 
overhanging  the  well,  a second  monkey  clung  to  the  first, 
a third  to  the  second,  a fourth  to  the  third,  and  so  on, — 
till  the  long  chain  of  bodies  had  almost  reached  the  water. 
Suddenly  the  branch  broke  under  the  unaccustomed  weight ; 
and  all  the  monkeys  were  drowned. 

® No  karma-relation  would  mean  an  utter  absence  of 
merit  as  well  as  of  demerit. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  171 

12.  — Gaki  mo  niniu. 

Even  gaki  (pretas)  can  make  a crowd.^ 

13.  — Gaki  no  me  tii  mid:{ii  mie:{ii. 

To  the  eyes  of  gaki  water  is  viewless.^ 

14.  — Gosho  wa  daiji. 

The  future  life  is  the  all-important  thing.® 

15.  — Giin-md  no  tai-:^d  wo  saguru  ga  gotosbi. 

Like  a lot  of  blind  men  feeling  a great  elephant.^ 

^ Literally : “ Even  gaki  are  a multitude  (or,  ‘ popula- 
tion’).” This  is  a popular  saying  used  in  a variety  of 
ways.  The  ordinary  meaning  is  to  the  eflrect  that  no  matter 
how  poor  or  miserable  the  individuals  composing  a mul- 
titude, they  collectively  represent  a respectable  force. 
Jocosely  the  saying  is  sometimes  used  of  a crowd  of 
wretched  or  tired-looking  people,  — sometimes  of  an  as- 
sembly of  weak  boys  desiring  to  make  some  demonstra- 
tion, — sometimes  of  a miserable-looking  company  of 
soldiers.  — Among  the  lowest  classes  of  the  people  it  is 
not  uncommon  to  call  a deformed  or  greedy  person  a 
” gaki.” 

^ Some  authorities  state  that  those  pretas  who  suffer 
especially  from  thirst,  as  a consequence  of  faults  committed 
in  former  lives,  are  unable  to  see  water.  — This  proverb  is 
used  in  speaking  of  persons  too  stupid  or  vicious  to  per- 
ceive a moral  truth. 

® The  common  people  often  use  the  curious  expression 
“ gosbo-daiji  ” as  an  equivalent  for  “ extremely  important.” 

■*  Said  of  those  who  ignorantly  criticise  the  doctrines  of 


172  In  Ghostly  Japan 

16.  — Gwai-men  nyo-Bosatsu  ; nai  shin  nyo- 
Yasha. 

In  outward  aspect  a Bodhisattva ; at  innermost 
heart  a demon.^ 

17.  — Hana  wa  ne  ni  haem. 

The  flower  goes  back  to  its  root.® 

18.  — Hibiki  no  hoe  ni  o^uru  ga  gotoshi. 

Even  as  the  echo  answers  to  the  voice.* 

19.  — Hito  wo  tasuheru  ga  sbuhke  no  yuhu. 

The  task  of  the  priest  is  to  save  mankind. 

Buddhism.  — The  proverb  alludes  to  a celebrated  fable  in 
the  Avadams,  about  a number  of  blind  men  who  tried  to 
decide  the  form  of  an  elephant  by  feeling  the  animal.  One, 
feeling  the  leg,  declared  the  elephant  to  be  like  a tree ; an- 
other, feeling  the  trunk  only,  declared  the  elephant  to  be 
like  a serpent ; a third,  who  felt  only  the  side,  said  that  the 
elephant  was  like  a wall;  a fourth,  grasping  the  tail,  said 
that  the  elephant  was  like  a rope,  etc. 

r Yasha  (Sanscrit  Yaksha),  a man-devouring  demon. 

2 This  proverb  is  most  often  used  in  reference  to  death, 
— signifying  that  all  forms  go  back  into  the  nothingness 
out  of  which  they  spring.  But  it  may  also  be  used  in  re- 
lation to  the  law  of  cause-and-effect. 

2 Referring  to  the  doctrine  of  cause-and-effect.  The 
philosophical  beauty  of  the  comparison  will  be  appreciated 
only  if  we  bear  in  mind  that  even  the  tone  of  the  echo  re- 
peats the  tone  of  the  voice. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  173 

20.  — Hi  iva  kiyttredomo  to-shin  v)a  kiyed^u. 
Though  the  flame  be  put  out,  the  wick  remains.^ 

21.  — Hotoke  mo  moto-wa  honbti. 

Even  the  Buddha  was  originally  but  a common 
man. 


22.  — Hotoke  ni  naru  mo  shami  wo  heru. 

Even  to  become  a Buddha  one  must  first  be- 
come a novice. 

23.  — Hotoke  no  kao  mo  sando. 

Even  a Buddha’s  face,  — only  three  times.® 

24.  — Hotoke  tanonde  Jigoku  eyiiku. 

Praying  to  Buddha  one  goes  to  hell.® 

25.  — Hotoke  tsukutte  tamashii  ired^ti. 

Making  a Buddha  without  putting  in  the  soul.^ 

1 Although  the  passions  may  be  temporarily  overcome, 
their  sources  remain.  A proverb  of  like  meaning  is, 
Bound  no  inn  o'idomo  sarain : “ Though  driven  away,  the 
Dog  of  Lust  cannot  be  kept  from  coming  back  again.” 

* This  is  a short  popular  form  of  the  longer  proverb, 
Hotoke  no  kao  mo  sando  na^ureba,  hara  wo  tatsn : “ Stroke 
even  the  face  of  a Buddha  three  times,  and  his  anger  will 
be  roused.” 

® The  popular  saying,  Oni  no  Nembutsu, — “a  devil’s 
praying,”  — has  a similar  meaning. 

* That  is  to  say,  making  an  image  of  the  Buddha  with- 
out giving  it  a soul.  This  proverb  is  used  in  reference  to 


174  In  Ghostly  Japan 

26.  — Ichi-ju  no  kage,  ichi-ga  no  nagare,  tashd 
no  en. 

Even  [the  experience  of]  a single  shadow  or  a 
single  flowing  of  water,  is  [made  by]  the  karma - 
relations  of  a former  life7 

27.  — Ichi-mo  shu-md  wo  bihu. 

One  blind  man  leads  many  blind  men.* 

28.  — Ingwa  na  ko. 

A karma-child.® 

the  conduct  of  those  who  undertake  to  do  some  work,  and 
leave  the  most  essential  part  of  the  work  unfinished.  It 
contains  an  allusion  to  the  curious  ceremony  called  Kai-gen, 
or  “ Eye-Opening.”  This  Kai-gen  is  a kind  of  consecration, 
by  virtue  of  which  a newly-made  image  is  supposed  to 
become  animated  by  the  real  presence  of  the  divinity 
represented. 

1 Even  so  trifling  an  occurrence  as  that  of  resting  with 
another  person  under  the  shadow  of  a tree,  or  drinking 
from  the  same  spring  with  another  person,  is  caused  by  the 
karma-relations  of  some  previous  existence. 

2 From  the  Buddhist  work  Dai-chi-dd-ron.  — The  reader 
will  find  a similar  proverb  in  Rhys-David’s  “ Buddhist  Suttas  ” 
(Sacred  Books  of  the  East),  p.  173,  — together  with  a very 
curious  parable,  cited  in  a footnote,  which  an  Indian  com- 
mentator gives  in  explanation. 

® A common  saying  among  the  lower  classes  in  reference 
to  an  unfortunate  or  crippled  child.  Here  the  word  ingwa 
is  used  especially  in  the  retributive  sense.  It  usually  signifies 
evil  karma ; kwaho  being  the  term  used  in  speaking  of  meri- 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  17> 

29.  — Ingwa  wa,  huruma  no  wa. 

Cause-and-effect  is  like  a wheeld 

30.  — Innen  ga  fuhai. 

The  karma-relation  is  deep.* 

31.  — InocM  wafu-7^en  no  tomoshibi. 

Life  is  a lamp-flame  before  a wind.® 

32.  — Issun  no  mushi  ni  mo,  gobu  no  tam- 
ashii. 

Even  a worm  an  inch  long  has  a soul  half -an - 
inch  long.^ 

torious  karma  and  its  results.  While  an  unfortunate  child 
is  spoken  of  as  “a  child  of  ingwa”  a very  lucky  person  is 
called  a " kwabo-mono"  — that  is  to  say,  an  instance,  or 
example  of  kwabo. 

1 The  comparison  of  karma  to  the  wheel  of  a wagon 
will  be  familiar  to  students  of  Buddhism.  The  meaning  of 
this  proverb  is  identical  with  that  of  the  Dbammapada 
verse:  — “If  a man  speaks  or  acts  with  an  evil  thought, 
pain  follows  him  as  the  wheel  follows  the  foot  of  the  ox 
that  draws  the  carriage.” 

2 A saying  very  commonly  used  in  speaking  of  the  at- 
tachment of  lovers,  or  of  the  unfortunate  results  of  any 
close  relation  between  two  persons. 

* Or,  “ like  the  flame  of  a lamp  exposed  to  the  wind.” 
A frequent  expression  in  Buddhist  literature  is  “ the  Wind 
of  Death.” 

* Literally,  “ has  a soul  of  five  bu,”  — five  bu  being  equal 
to  half  of  the  Japanese  inch.  Buddhism  forbids  all  taking 


176 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

33.  — Iwashi^  no  atama  mo  shinjin  Kara. 

Even  the  head  of  an  iwasM,  by  virtue  of  faith, 

[will  have  power  to  save,  or  heal]. 

34.  — Jigo-jitohu? 

The  fruit  of  one’s  own  deeds  \in  a previous 
state  of  existence'], 

35.  — Jigoku  de  hotohe. 

Like  meeting  with  a Buddha  in  hell.® 

of  life,  and  classes  as  things  (Ujo)  all  forms  having 
sentiency.  The  proverb,  however, — as  the  use  of  the  word 
“soul”  (tamashii)  implies,  — reflects  popular  belief  rather 
than  Buddhist  philosophy.  It  signifies  that  any  life,  how- 
ever small  or  mean,  is  entitled  to  mercy. 

1 The  iwashi  is  a very  small  fish,  much  resembling  a sar- 
dine. The  proverb  implies  that  the  object  of  worship  sig- 
nifies little,  so  long  as  the  prayer  is  made  with  perfect  faith 
and  pure  intention. 

^ Few  popular  Buddhist  phrases  are  more  often  used 
than  this.  Jigo  signifies  one’s  own  acts  or  thoughts ; jitohu, 
to  bring  upon  oneself, — nearly  always  in  the  sense  of  mis- 
fortune, when  the  word  is  used  in  the  Buddhist  way. 
“ Well,  it  is  a matter  oi  Jigo-jitoku,”  people  will  observe  on 
seeing  a man  being  taken  to  prison ; meaning,  “ He  is  reap- 
ing the  consequence  of  his  own  faults.” 

* Refers  to  the  joy  of  meeting  a good  friend  in  time  of 
misfortune.  The  above  is  an  abbreviation.  The  full  prov- 
erb is,  Jigoku  de  botoke  ni  otayo  da.  > 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  177 

36.  — Jigoku  Gokuraku  wa  kokoro  ni  ari. 

Hell  and  Heaven  are  in  the  hearts  of  men7 

37.  — Jigokii  mo  sumiha. 

Even  Hell  itself  is  a dwelling-place.'’ 

38.  — Jigokii  ni  mo  shim  hito. 

Even  in  hell  old  acquaintances  are  welcome. 

39.  — Kage  no  katachi  ni  shitagau  gotoshi. 

Even  as  the  shadow  follows  the  shape.® 

40.  — Kane  wa  Amidayori  hikaru. 

Money  shines  even  more  brightly  than  Amida."* 

1 A proverb  in  perfect  accord  with  the  higher  Buddhism. 

* Meaning  that  even  those  obliged  to  live  in  hell  must 
learn  to  accommodate  themselves  to  the  situation.  One 
should  always  try  to  make  the  best  of  circumstances.  A 
proverb  of  kindred  signification  is,  Siimeba,  Miyako: 
“ Wheresover  one’s  home  is,  that  is  the  Capital  [or,  Im- 
perial City].” 

® Referring  to  the  doctrine  of  cause-and-effect.  Com- 
pare with  verse  2 of  the  Dbammapada. 

* Amitabba,  the  Buddha  of  Immeasurable  Light.  His 
image  in  the  temples  is  usually  gilded  from  head  to  foot. — 
There  are  many  other  ironical  proverbs  about  the  power  of 
wealth,  — such  as  Jigoku  no  sata  mo  kane  shidai : “ Even 
the  Judgments  of  Hell  may  be  influenced  by  money.” 


178 


In  Ghostly  Japan 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  1 79 


EiMMA  DaI-O 


180  In  Ghostly  Japan 

41.  — Karu-toki  no  Ji^o-gao  ; nasu-toki  no 
Emma-gao. 

Borrowing-time,  the  face  of  Jizo;  repaying, 
time,  the  face  of  Emma.^ 

42.  — Kiite  Gokuraku,  mite  Jigoku. 

Heard  of  only,  it  is  Paradise ; seen,  it  is  Hell.^ 

43- — Koji  mon  wo  ide:^u : akuji  sen  ri  wo 
hashiru. 

Good  actions  go  not  outside  of  the  gate : bad 
deeds  travel  a thousand  ri. 

44.  — Kokoro  no  koma  ni  tad^^una  wo  yuru- 
siina. 

Never  let  go  the  reins  of  the  wild  colt  of  the 
heart. 

45-  — Kokoro  no  oni  ga  mi  wo  semeru. 

The  body  is  tortured  only  by  the  demon  of  the 
heart.* 

1 Emma  is  the  Chinese  and  Japanese  Yama, — in  Bud- 
dhism the  Lord  of  Hell,  and  the  Judge  of  the  Dead.  The 
proverb  is  best  explained  by  the  accompanying  drawings, 
which  will  serve  to  give  an  idea  of  the  commoner  representa- 
tions of  both  divinities. 

2 Rumor  is  never  trustworthy. 

3 Or  “ mind.”  That  is  to  say  that  we  suffer  only  from  the 
consequences  of  our  own  faults. — The  demon-torturer  in 
the  Buddhist  hell  says  to  his  victim : — “ Blame  not  me  ! — 
I am  only  the  creation  of  your  own  deeds  and  thoughts : 
you  made  me  for  this  1 ” — Compare  with  No.  36. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  181 

46.  — Kokoro  no  shi  to  wa  nare  ; kokoro  wo 
shi  to  se^^arL 

Be  the  teacher  of  your  heart:  do  not  allow 
your  heart  to  become  your  teacher. 

47.  — Konoyo  wa  kari  no y ado. 

This  world  is  only  a resting-place.^ 

48.  — Kori  wo  chiribame ; midiu  ni  egaku. 

To  inlay  ice ; to  paint  upon  water. 

49.  — Korohoro  to 

Nakn  wayamada  no 
Hototogisu, 

Chichi  niteya  aran, 

Haha  niteya  aran. 

The  bird  that  cries  horokoro  in  the  mountain 
rice -field  1 know  to  be  a hototogisu ; — yet  it  may 


1 “This  world  is  but  a travellers’  inn,”  would  be  an 
almost  equally  correct  translation.  Yado  literally  means  a 
lodging,  shelter,  inn ; and  the  word  is  applied  often  to  those 
wayside  resting-houses  at  which  Japanese  travellers  halt 
during  a journey.  Kari  signifies  temporary,  transient, 
fleeting,  — as  in  the  common  Buddhist  saying,  Kono  yo 
kari  no  yo : “ This  world  is  a fleeting  world.”  Even 
Heaven  and  Hell  represent  to  the  Buddhist  only  halting 
places  upon  the  journey  to  Nirvana. 

2 Refers  to  the  vanity  of  selfish  effort  for  some  merely 
temporary  end. 


182  In  Ghostly  Japan 

have  been  my  father;  it  may  have  been  my 
mother.^ 

50.  — Ko  wa  Sangai  no  kubikase. 

A child  is  a neck -shackle  for  the  Three  States 
of  Existence.* 

51.  — Kuchi  wa  wa^awai  no  kado. 

The  mouth  is  the  front-gate  of  all  misfortune.® 

1 This  verse-proverb  is  cited  in  the  Buddhist  work 
IVdjo  Ydshu,  with  the  following  comment : — “ Who  knows 
whether  the  animal  in  the  field,  or  the  bird  in  the  mountain- 
wood,  has  not  been  either  his  father  or  his  mother  in  some 
former  state  of  existence?” — The  hototogim  is  a kind  of 
cuckoo. 

2 That  is  to  say.  The  love  of  parents  for  their  child  may 
impede  their  spiritual  progress  — not  only  in  this  world,  but 
through  all  their  future  states  of  being,  — just  as  a kubikase, 
or  Japanese  cangue,  impedes  the  movements  of  the  person 
upon  whom  it  is  placed.  Parental  affection,  being  the 
strongest  of  earthly  attachments,  is  particularly  apt  to 
cause  those  whom  it  enslaves  to  commit  wrongful  acts  in 
the  hope  of  benefiting  their  offspring.  — The  term  Sangai 
here  signifies  the  three  worlds  of  Desire,  Form,  and  Form- 
lessness,— all  the  states  of  existence  below  Nirvana.  But 
the  word  is  sometimes  used  to  signify  the  Past,  the  Present, 
and  the  Future. 

® That  is  to  say,  The  chief  cause  of  trouble  is  unguarded 
speech.  The  word  Kado  means  always  the  mam  entrance 
to  a residence. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  183 

52.  — Kwaho  wa,  nete  matL 

If  you  wish  for  good  luck,  sleep  and  wait.‘ 

53.  — Makanu  tane  wa  haenu. 

Nothing  will  grow,  if  the  seed  be  not  sowti.^ 

54.  — Mateba,  kanro  no  hiyori. 

If  you  wait,  ambrosial  weather  will  come.* 

55.  — Meido  no  micbi  ni  O wa  nasbi. 

There  is  no  King  on  the  Road  of  Death.'* 

56.  — Mekiira  hebi  7ii  ojiin. 

The  blind  man  does  not  fear  the  snake.® 

1 Kwabo,  a purely  Buddhist  term,  sig^nifying  good  fortune 
as  the  result  of  good  actions  in  a previous  life,  has  come  to 
mean  in  common  parlance  good  fortune  of  any  kind.  The 
proverb  is  often  used  in  a sense  similar  to  that  of  the  Eng- 
lish saying : “ Watched  pot  never  boils.”  In  a strictly 
Buddhist  sense  it  would  mean,  “ Do  not  be  too  eager  for  the 
reward  of  good  deeds.” 

* Do  not  expect  harvest,  unless  you  sow  the  seed.  With- 
out earnest  effort  no  merit  can  be  gained 

s Kanro,  the  sweet  dew  of  Heaven,  or  amrita.  All  good 
things  come  to  him  who  waits. 

* Literally,  “ on  the  Road  of  Meido.”  The  MeidO  is  the 
Japanese  Hades,  — the  dark  under-world  to  which  all  the 
dead  must  journey. 

® The  ignorant  and  the  vicious,  not  understanding  the 
law  of  cause-and-effect,  do  not  fear  the  certain  results  of 
their  folly. 


184 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

57.  — Mitsureba,  kakuru. 

Having  waxed,  wanes.^ 

58.  — Mon  :^en  no  ko^b  narawanu  kyb  wo 
yomu. 

The  shop-boy  in  front  of  the  temple-gate  re- 
peats the  sutra  which  he  never  learned.* 

59-  — Mujo  no  ka^e  wa,  toki  erdbaT^ii. 

The  Wind  of  Impermanency  does  not  choose  a 
time.® 

1 No  sooner  has  the  moon  waxed  full  than  it  begins  to 
wane.  So  the  height  of  prosperity  is  also  the  beginning  of 
fortune’s  decline. 

2 Koio  means  “ acolyte  ” as  well  as  “ shop-boy,”  “ errand- 
boy,”  or  “ apprentice;”  but  in  this  case  it  refers  to  a boy 
employed  in  a shop  situated  near  or  before  the  gate  of  a 
Buddhist  temple.  By  constantly  hearing  the  sOtra  chanted 
in  the  temple,  the  boy  learns  to  repeat  the  words.  A pro- 
verb of  kindred  meaning  is,  Kangaku-In  no  suiume  wa,  MogyU 
V!osaye{uru : “ The  sparrows  of  Kangaku-ln  [an  ancient  seat 
of  learning]  chirp  the  Mogyu,”  — a Chinese  text  formerly 
taught  to  young  students.  The  teaching  of  either  proverb 
is  excellently  expressed  b}'  a third : — Narauyori  wa  narero : 
“Rather  than  study  [an  art],  get  accustomed  to  it,”  — that 
is  to  say,  “ keep  constantly  in  contact  with  it.”  Observation 
and  practice  are  even  better  than  study. 

s Death  and  Change  do  not  conform  their  ways  to  human 
expectation. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  18J 

60.  — Neko  mo  Bussho  ari. 

In  even  a cat  the  Buddha-nature  exists.^ 

61.  — Neta  ma  ga  Gokurahu. 

The  interval  of  sleep  is  Paradise.*^ 

62.  — Nijiu-go  Bosatsu  mo  sore-sore  no yaku. 

Even  each  of  the  Twenty-five  Bodhisattvas  has 

his  own  particular  duty  to  perform, 

63.  — Nin  mite,  ho  toke. 

[First]  see  the  person,  [then]  preach  the  doc- 
trine.® 

64.  — Ninshin  iikegataku  Biippo  aigatashi. 

It  is  not  easy  to  be  born  among  men,  and  to 
meet  with  [the  good  fortune  of  hearing  the  doc- 
trine of  ] Buddhism.^ 

1 Notwithstanding  the  legend  that  only  the  cat  and  the 
mamiisbi  (a  poisonous  viper)  failed  to  weep  for  the  death 
of  the  Buddha. 

* Only  during  sleep  can  we  sometimes  cease  to  know  the 
sorrow  and  pain  of  this  world.  (Compare  with  No.  83.) 

8 The  teaching  of  Buddhist  doctrine  should  always  be 
adapted  to  the  intelligence  of  the  person  to  be  instructed. 
There  is  another  proverb  of  the  same  kind,  — Ki  ni  yorile, 
ho  leo  take : “ According  to  the  understanding  [of  the  person 
to  be  taught],  preach  the  Law.” 

* Popular  Buddhism  teaches  that  to  be  born  in  the 


186 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

65.  — Oni  mo  jiu-hachi. 

Even  a devil  [is  pretty]  at  eighteen.^ 

66.  — Oni  mo  mi,  naretaru  gayoshi. 

Even  a devil,  when  you  become  accustomed  to 
the  sight  of  him,  may  prove  a pleasant  acquaint- 
ance. 

67.  — Oni  ni  kanaho. 

An  iron  club  for  a demon.^ 

world  of  mankind,  and  especially  among  a people  professing 
Buddhism,  is  a very  great  privilege.  However  miserable 
human  existence,  it  is  at  least  a state  in  which  some  knowl- 
edge of  divine  truth  may  be  obtained ; whereas  the  beings 
in  other  and  lower  conditions  of  life  are  relatively  incapable 
of  spiritual  progress. 

1 There  are  many  curious  sayings  and  proverbs  about 
the  oni,  or  Buddhist  devil,  — such  as  Oni  no  me  ni  mo  na- 
midtx,  “ tears  in  even  a devil’s  eyes;  ” — “ Oni  no  kakuran, 
“ devil’s  cholera  ” (said  of  the  unexpected  sickness  of  some 
very  strong  and  healthy  person),  etc.,  etc.  — The  class  of 
demons  called  Oni,  properly  belong  to  the  Buddhist  hells, 
where  they  act  as  torturers  and  jailers.  They  are  not  to  be 
confounded  with  the  Ma,  Yasha,  Kijin,  and  other  classes  of 
evil  spirits.  In  Buddhist  art  they  are  represented  as  beings 
of  enormous  strength,  with  the  heads  of  bulls  and  of 
horses.  The  bull-headed  demons  are  called  Go-{tr,  the 
horse-headed  Me-{u. 

2 Meaning  that  great  power  should  be  given  only  to  the 
strong. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  187 

68.  — Oni  no  nyoho  ni  kijin. 

A devil  takes  a goblin  to  wife.^ 

69.  — Onna  no  ke  ni  wa  dai-^o  mo  tsunagaru. 
With  one  hair  of  a woman  you  can  tether  even 

a great  elephant. 

70.  — Onna  wa  Sangai  ni  iye  nasU. 

Women  have  no  homes  of  their  own  in  the 

Three  States  of  Existence. 

71.  — Oya  no  ingu'a  ga  ho  ni  mukuil. 

The  karma  of  the  parents  is  visited  upon  the 
child.® 

72.  — Rahkwa  eda  ni  kaera^u. 

The  fallen  blossom  never  returns  to  the  branch.® 

^ Meaning  that  a wicked  man  usually  marries  a wicked 
woman. 

^ Said  of  the  parents  of  crippled  or  deformed  children. 
But  the  popular  idea  here  expressed  is  not  altogether  in 
accord  with  the  teachings  of  the  higher  Buddhism. 

« That  which  has  been  done  never  can  be  undone:  the 
past  cannot  be  recalled.  — This  proverb  is  an  abbrevia- 
tion of  the  longer  Buddhist  text : Rakkwa  eda  ni  kaera^u ; 
ha-kyo  fntatabi  terasa^u : “ The  fallen  blossom  never  returns 
to  the  branch;  the  shattered  mirror  never  again  reflects.” 


188  In  Ghostly  Japan 

73.  — Raku  wa  ku  no  tane ; ku  wa  raku  no 
tane. 

Pleasure  is  the  seed  of  pain ; pain  is  the  seed  of 
pleasure. 

74.  — Rokudd  wa,  me  no  mae. 

The  Six  Roads  are  right  before  your  eyes.^ 

75.  — Sangai  mu-an. 

There  is  no  rest  within  the  Three  States  of 
Existence. 

76.  — Sangai  ni  kaki  nasbi ; — Rokudd  ni 
hotori  nashi. 

There  is  no  fence  to  the  Three  States  of  Ex- 
istence;— there  is  no  neighborhood  to  the  Six 
Roads.® 

1 That  is  to  say,  Your  future  life  depends  upon  your 
conduct  in  this  life ; and  you  are  thus  free  to  choose  for 
yourself  the  place  of  your  next  birth. 

2 Within  the  Three  States  (Sangai),  or  universes,  of 
Desire,  Form,  and  Formlessness;  and  within  the  Six  Worlds, 
or  conditions  of  being, — Jigokudo  (Hell),  Gakido  (Pretas), 
Chikushodo  (Animal  Life),  Shtirado  (World  of  Fighting  and 
Slaughter),  Ningendo  (Mankind),  Tenjodd  (Heavenly  Spirits) 
— all  existence  is  included.  Beyond  there  is  only  Nirvana. 
“ There  is  no  fence,”  “ no  neighborhood,”  — that  is  to 
say,  no  limit  beyond  which  to  escape,  — no  middle-path 
between  any  two  of  these  states.  We  shall  be  reborn  into 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  189 

77.  — Sange  ni  wa  sannen  no  tsumi  mo  horobu. 
One  confession  effaces  the  sins  of  even  three 

years. 

78.  — Sannin yoreba,  kugai. 

Where  even  three  persons  come  together,  there 
is  a world  of  pain.^ 

79.  — San  nin yoreba,  Monjii  no  cbie. 

Where  three  persons  come  together,  there  is 

the  wisdom  of  Monjur 

80.  — Shaka  ni  sehhyo. 

Preaching  to  Sakyamuni. 

81.  — Shami  kara  chord. 

To  become  an  abbot  one  must  begin  as  a 
novice. 

some  one  of  them  according  to  our  karma. — Compare 
with  No.  74. 

1 Kugai  (lit.:  “bitter  world”)  is  a term  often  used  to 
describe  the  life  of  a prostitute. 

* Monju  Bosatsu  [Mandjus’ri  Bodbisattva]  figures  in 
Japanese  Buddhism  as  a special  divinity  of  wisdom.  — The 
proverb  signifies  that  three  heads  are  better  than  one.  A 
saying  of  like  meaning  is,  Hiia  to  mo  danko : “Consult 
even  with  your  own  knee;”  that  is  to  say,  Despise  no 
advice,  no  matter  how  humble  the  source  of  it. 


190 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

82.  — Shindareba,  hoso  ikitare. 

Only  by  reason  of  having  died  does  one  enter 
into  life.^ 


83.  — Shiranu  ga,  hotoke;  minu  ga,  Goku~ 
raku. 

Not  to  know  is  to  be  a Buddha ; not  to  see  is 
Paradise. 

84.  — Shobo  ni  kidoku  nashi. 

There  is  no  miracle  in  true  doctrine.* 


85.  — Sbd-chie  wa  Bodai  no  samatagL 
A little  wisdom  is  a stumbling-block  on  the 
way  to  Buddhahood.* 

1 I never  hear  this  singular  proverb  without  being  re- 
minded of  a sentence  in  Huxley’s  famous  essay,  On  the 
Physical  Basis  of  Life: — “The  living  protoplasm  not  only 
ultimately  dies  and  is  resolved  into  its  mineral  and  lifeless 
constituents,  but  is  always  dying,  and,  strange  as  the  par- 
adox may  sound,  cotild  not  live  unless  it  died.” 

* Nothing  can  happen  except  as  a result  of  eternal  and 
irrevocable  law. 

® Bodai  is  the  same  word  as  the  Sanscrit  Bodhi,  signify- 
ing the  supreme  enlightenment,  — the  knowledge  that  leads 
to  Buddhahood ; but  it  is  often  used  by  Japanese  Buddhists 
in  the  sense  of  divine  bliss,  or  the  Buddha-state  itself. 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  191 

86.  — Shosbi  no  kiikai  loetori  nashi. 

There  is  no  shore  to  the  bitter  Sea  of  Birth  and 
Death.^ 

87.  — Sode  no  fiiri-awase  mo  tasho  no  en. 

Even  the  touching  of  sleeves  in  passing  is 

caused  by  some  relation  in  a former  life. 

88.  — Sun  ^en ; shaku  ma. 

An  inch  of  virtue ; a foot  of  demon.^ 

89.  — Tanoshimi  wa  kanashimi  no  motoi. 

All  joy  is  the  source  of  sorrow. 

90.  — Tonde  hi  ni  im  natsii  no  musht. 

So  the  insects  of  summer  fly  to  the  flame.® 

91.  — Tsuchi-botoke  no  midiu-asobi. 

Clay-Euddha’s  water-playing.'* 

1 Or,  “ the  Pain-Sea  of  Life  and  Death.” 

- Ma  (Sanscrit,  MarakajnJtas)  is  the  name  ffiven  to  a 
particular  class  of  spirits  who  tempt  men  to  evil.  But  in 
Japanese  folklore  the  Ma  have  a part  much  resembling 
that  occupied  in  Western  popular  superstition  by  goblins 
and  fairies. 

* Said  especially  in  reference  to  the  result  of  sensual  in- 
dulgence. 

* That  is  to  say,  “ As  dangerous  as  for  a clay  Buddha  to 
play  with  water.”  Children  often  amuse  themselves  by 
making  little  Buddhist  images  of  mud,  which  melt  into 
shapelessness,  of  course,  if  placed  in  water. 


192 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

92.  — Tsuki  ni  murakumo,  hana  ni  ha^e. 

Cloud-wrack  to  the  moon  ; wind  to  flowers.^ 

93*  — Tsuyu  no  inochi. 

Human  life  is  like  the  dew  of  morning. 

94.  — U-hi  wa,  kokoro  ni  ari. 

Joy  and  sorrow  exist  only  in  the  mind. 

95*  — Uri  no  tsuru  ni  nasubi  wa  naranii. 

Egg-plants  do  not  grow  upon  melon-vines. 

96.  — Uso  mo  hoben. 

Even  an  untruth  may  serve  as  a device.* 

97.  — IVagaya  no  hotoke  tattoshi. 

My  family  ancestors  were  all  excellent 
Buddhas.® 

1 The  beauty  of  the  moon  is  obscured  by  masses  of 
clouds ; the  trees  no  sooner  blossom  than  their  flowers  are 
scattered  by  the  wind.  All  beauty  is  evanescent. 

2 That  is,  a pious  device  for  effecting  conversion. 
Such  a device  is  justified  especially  by  the  famous  parable 
of  the  third  chapter  of  the  Saddharma  Pundanka. 

8 Meaning  that  one  most  reveres  the  hotoke  — the 
spirits  of  the  dead  regarded  as  Buddhas  — in  one’s  own 
household-shrine.  There  is  an  ironical  play  upon  the 
word  hotoke,  which  may  mean  either  a dead  person  simply, 
or  a Buddha.  Perhaps  the  spirit  of  this  proverb  may  be 
better  explained  by  the  help  of  another:  Nigeta  sakana  ni 


Japanese  Buddhist  Proverbs  193 

98.  — Yiiki  no  hate  wa,  Nehan. 

The  end  of  snow  is  NirvSna.^ 

99.  — Zen  ni  wa  :^en  no  mukui ; akti  ni  wa 
ahu  no  mukui. 

Goodness  [or,  virtue']  is  the  return  for  good- 
ness ; evil  is  the  return  for  evil.^ 

100.  — Zense  no  yakusoku -goto. 

Promised  [or,  destined]  from  a former  birth.® 

cbisai  wa  nai ; sbinda  kodomo  ni  wand  ko  wa  nai  — “Fish 
that  escaped  was  never  small;  child  that  died  was  never 
bad.” 

1 This  curious  saying  is  the  only  one  in  my  collection 
containing  the  word  Neban  (Nirvana),  and  is  here  inserted 
chiefly  for  that  reason.  The  common  people  seldom  speak 
of  Nehan,  and  have  little  knowledge  of  those  profound 
doctrines  to  which  the  term  is  related.  The  above  phrase, 
as  might  be  inferred,  is  not  a popular  expression:  it  is 
rather  an  artistic  and  poetical  reference  to  the  aspect  of  a 
landscape  covered  with  snow  to  the  horizon-line,  — so  that 
beyond  the  snow-circle  there  is  only  the  great  void  of  the 
sky. 

* Not  so  commonplace  a proverb  as  might  appear  at 
first  sight ; for  it  refers  especially  to  the  Buddhist  belief 
that  every  kindness  shown  to  us  in  this  life  is  a return  of 
kindness  done  to  others  in  a former  life,  and  that  every 
wrong  inflicted  upon  us  is  the  reflex  of  some  injustice 
which  we  committed  in  a previous  birth. 

® A very  common  saying, — often  uttered  as  a comment 
upon  the  unhappiness  of  separation,  upon  sudden  mis- 

13 


194  In  Ghostly  Japan 

fortune,  upon  sudden  death,  etc.  It  is  used  especially  in 
relation  to  shinjii,  or  lovers’  suicide.  Such  suicide  is  popu- 
larly thought  to  be  a result  of  cruelty  in  some  previous 
state  of  being,  or  the  consequence  of  having  broken,  in  a 
former  life,  the  mutual  promise  to  become  husband  and 
wife. 


Suggestion 


Suggestion 

9 


I HAD  the  privilege  of  meeting  him  in  T5ky6, 
where  he  was  making  a brief  stay  on  his 
way  to  India  ; — and  we  took  a long  walk 
together,  and  talked  of  Eastern  religions,  about 
which  he  knew  incomparably  more  than  I. 
Whatever  1 could  tell  him  concerning  local 
beliefs,  he  would  comment  upon  in  the  most 
startling  manner,  — citing  weird  correspondences 
in  some  living  cult  of  India,  Burmah,  or  Ceylon. 
Then,  all  of  a sudden,  he  turned  the  conversation 
into  a totally  unexpected  direction. 

“ 1 have  been  thinking,”  he  said,  “ about  the 
constancy  of  the  relative  proportion  of  the  sexes, 
and  wondering  whether  Buddhist  doctrine  fur- 
nishes an  explanation.  For  it  seems  to  me  that, 
under  ordinary  conditions  of  karma,  human 
rebirth  would  necessarily  proceed  by  a regular 
alternation.” 


198 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ Do  you  mean,”  1 asked,  “ that  a man  would 
be  reborn  as  a woman,  and  a woman  as  a man  ? ” 
“ Yes,”  he  replied,  “ because  desire  is  creative, 
and  the  desire  of  either  sex  is  towards  the  other.” 
“ And  how  many  men,”  I said,  “ would  want 
to  be  reborn  as  women  ? ” 

“ Probably  very  few,”  he  answered.  “ But  the 
doctrine  that  desire  is  creative  does  not  imply  that 
the  individual  longing  creates  its  own  satisfaction, 
— quite  the  contrary.  The  true  teaching  is  that 
the  result  of  every  selfish  wish  is  in  the  nature  of 
a penalty,  and  that  what  the  wish  creates  must 
prove  — to  higher  knowledge  at  least — the  folly 
of  wishing.” 

“ There  you  are  right,”  I said ; “ but  I do  not 
yet  understand  your  theory.” 

“Well,”  he  continued,  “if  the  physical  con- 
ditions of  human  rebirth  are  all  determined  by 
the  karma  of  the  will  relating  to  physical  condi- 
tions, then  sex  would  be  determined  by  the  will 
in  relation  to  sex.  Now  the  will  of  either  sex 
is  towards  the  other.  Above  all  things  else, 
excepting  life,  man  desires  woman,  and  woman 
man.  Each  individual,  moreover,  independently 
of  any  personal  relation,  feels  perpetually,  you 
say,  the  influence  of  some  inborn  feminine  or 


Suggestion  199 

masculine  ideal,  which  you  call  ‘ a ghostly  reflex 
of  countless  attachments  in  countless  past  lives.’ 
And  the  insatiable  desire  represented  by  this  ideal 
would  of  itself  suffice  to  create  the  masculine  or 
the  feminine  body  of  the  next  existence.” 

“ But  most  women,”  1 observed,  “ would  like 
to  be  reborn  as  men  ; and  the  accomplishment  of 
that  wish  would  scarcely  be  in  the  nature  of  a 
penalty.” 

” Why  not  ? ” he  returned.  “ The  happiness 
or  unhappiness  of  the  new  existence  would  not 
be  decided  by  sex  alone:  it  would  of  necessity 
depend  upon  many  conditions  in  combination.” 

“ Your  theory  is  interesting,”  1 said ; — “ but  I 
do  not  know  how  far  it  could  be  made  to  accord 
with  accepted  doctrine.  . . . And  what  of  the 
person  able,  through  knowledge  and  practice  of 
the  higher  law,  to  remain  superior  to  all  weak- 
nesses of  sex  ? ” 

“ Such  a one,”  he  replied,  “ would  be  reborn 
neither  as  man  nor  as  woman,  — providing  there 
were  no  pre-existent  karma  powerful  enough  to 
check  or  to  weaken  the  results  of  the  self-con- 
quest.” 

“ Reborn  in  some  one  of  the  heavens  ? " I 
queried,  — “ by  the  Apparitional  Birth  ? ” 


200  In  Ghostly  Japan 

“Not  necessarily,”  he  said.  “Such  a one 
might  be  reborn  in  a world  of  desire,  — like 
this,  — but  neither  as  man  only,  nor  as  woman 
only.” 

“ Reborn,  then,  in  what  form  ? ” I asked. 

“ In  that  of  a perfect  being,”  he  responded. 
“ A man  or  a woman  is  scarcely  more  than  half- 
a-being,  — because  in  our  present  imperfect  state 
either  sex  can  be  evolved  only  at  the  cost  of  the 
other.  In  the  mental  and  the  physical  composition 
of  every  man,  there  is  undeveloped  woman ; and 
in  the  composition  of  every  woman  there  is  unde- 
veloped man.  But  a being  complete  would  be 
both  perfect  man  and  perfect  woman,  possessing 
the  highest  faculties  of  both  sexes,  with  the 
weaknesses  of  neither.  Some  humanity  higher 
than  our  own,  — in  other  worlds,  — might  be 
thus  evolved.” 

“ But  you  know,”  I observed,  “ that  there  are 
Buddhist  texts,  — in  the  Saddharma  Pwidarika, 
for  example,  and  in  the  yimyas,  — which 
forbid.  ...” 

“Those  texts,”  he  interrupted,  “refer  to  im- 
perfect beings  — less  than  man  and  less  than 
woman;  they  could  not  refer  to  the  condition 
that  I have  been  supposing.  . . . But,  remember, 


Suggestion  201 

I am  not  preaching  a doctrine;  — I am  only 
hazarding  a theory.” 

“ May  1 put  your  theory  some  day  into  print  ? ” 
1 asked. 

“ Why,  yes,”  he  made  answer, — “ if  you  believe 
it  worth  thinking  about.” 

And  long  afterwards  1 wrote  it  down  thus,  as 
fairly  as  1 was  able,  from  memory. 


Ingwa-banashi 


Ingwa-banashi  ‘ 


The  daimyo’s  wife  was  dying,  and  knew 
that  she  was  dying.  She  had  not  been 
able  to  leave  her  bed  since  the  early 
autumn  of  the  tenth  Bunsei.  It  was  now  the 
fourth  month  of  the  twelfth  Bunsei,  — the  year 
1829  by  Western  counting;  and  the  cherry-trees 
were  blossoming.  She  thought  of  the  cherry- 
trees  in  her  garden,  and  of  the  gladness  of  spring. 
She  thought  of  her  children.  She  thought  of 
her  husband’s  various  concubines,  — especially 
the  Lady  Yukiko,  nineteen  years  old. 

1 Lit.,  “ a tale  of  ing-xa."  Ingwa  is  a Japanese  Buddhist 
term  for  evil  karma,  or  the  evil  consequence  of  faults  com- 
mitted in  a former  state  of  existence.  Perhaps  the  curious 
title  of  the  narrative  is  best  explained  by  the  Buddhist  teach- 
ing that  the  dead  have  power  to  injure  the  living  only  in 
consequence  of  evil  actions  committed  by  their  victims  in 
some  former  life.  Both  title  and  narrative  may  be  found 
in  the  collection  of  weird  stories  entitled  Hyaku-Monogaiari. 


206  111  Ghostly  Japan 

“ My  dear  wife,”  said  the  daimyo,  “you  have 
suffered  very  much  for  three  long  years.  We 
have  done  all  that  we  could  to  get  you  well,  — 
watching  beside  you  night  and  day,  praying  for 
you,  and  often  fasting  for  your  sake.  But  in 
spite  of  our  loving  care,  and  in  spite  of  the  skill 
of  our  best  physicians,  it  would  now  seem  that 
the  end  of  your  life  is  not  far  off.  Probably  we 
shall  sorrow  more  than  you  will  sorrow  because 
of  your  having  to  leave  what  the  Buddha  so  truly 
termed  ‘this  burning-house  of  the  world.’  1 
shall  order  to  be  performed  — no  matter  what 
the  cost  — every  religious  rite  that  can  serve  you 
in  regard  to  your  next  rebirth ; and  all  of  us  will 
pray  without  ceasing  for  you,  that  you  may  not 
have  to  wander  in  the  Black  Space,  but  may 
quickly  enter  Paradise,  and  attain  to  Buddha- 
hood.” 

He  spoke  with  the  utmost  tenderness,  caressing 
her  the  while.  Then,  with  eyelids  closed,  she 
answered  him  in  a voice  thin  as  the  voice  of  an 
insect : — 

“1  am  grateful  — most  grateful  — for  your 
kind  words.  . . . Yes,  it  is  true,  as  you  say,  that 
1 have  been  sick  for  three  long  years,  and  that  1 
have  been  treated  with  all  possible  care  and  af- 


207 


Ingwa-banashi 

fection.  . . . Why,  indeed,  should  I turn  away 
from  the  one  true  Path  at  the  very  moment  of  my 
death  ? . . . Perhaps  to  think  of  worldly  matters 
at  such  a time  is  not  right ; — but  1 have  one  last 
request  to  make,  — only  one.  . . . Call  here  to 
me  the  Lady  Yukiko;  — you  know  that  I love 
her  like  a sister.  1 want  to  speak  to  her  about 
the  affairs  of  this  household.” 

Yukiko  came  at  the  summons  of  the  lord,  and, 
in  obedience  to  a sign  from  him,  knelt  down  be- 
side the  couch.  The  daimyd’s  wife  opened  her 
eyes,  and  looked  at  Yukiko,  and  spoke : — 

“ Ah,  here  is  Yukiko ! ...  1 am  so  pleased  to 
see  you,  Yukiko!  . . . Come  a little  closer,  — so 
that  you  can  hear  me  well : I am  not  able  to  speak 
loud.  . . . Yukiko,  I am  going  to  die.  1 hope  that 
you  will  be  faithful  in  all  things  to  our  dear  lord ; 
— for  1 want  you  to  take  my  place  when  1 am 
gone.  ...  I hope  that  you  will  always  be  loved  by 
him,  — yes,  even  a hundred  times  more  than  I 
have  been,  — and  that  you  will  very  soon  be 
promoted  to  a higher  rank,  and  become  his 
honored  wife.  . . . And  1 beg  of  you  always  to 
cherish  our  dear  lord : never  allow  another  woman 
to  rob  you  of  his  affection.  . . . This  is  what  I 


208 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

wanted  to  say  to  you,  dearYukiko.  . . . Have  you 
been  able  to  understand  ? ” 

“ Oh,  my  dear  Lady,”  protested  Yukiko,  “ do 
not,  1 entreat  you,  say  such  strange  things  to  me ! 
You  well  know  that  1 am  of  poor  and  mean  con- 
dition:— how  could  1 ever  dare  to  aspire  to 
become  the  wife  of  our  lord ! ” 

“ Nay,  nay ! ” returned  the  wife,  huskily,  — 
“this  is  not  a time  for  words  of  ceremony:  let 
us  speak  only  the  truth  to  each  other.  After  my 
death,  you  will  certainly  be  promoted  to  a higher 
place;  and  1 now  assure  you  again  that  1 wish 
you  to  become  the  wife  of  our  lord  — yes,  1 wish 
this,  Yukiko,  even  more  than  1 wish  to  become 
a Buddha ! ...  Ah,  1 had  almost  forgotten ! — 1 
want  you  to  do  something  for  me,  Yukiko.  You 
know  that  in  the  garden  there  is  a yae-iakiira,^ 
which  was  brought  here,  the  year  before  last, 
from  Mount  Yoshino  in  Yamato.  1 have  been 
told  that  it  is  now  in  full  bloom ; — and  1 wanted 
so  much  to  see  it  in  flower ! In  a little  while  1 
shall  be  dead ; — 1 must  see  that  tree  before  1 die. 
Now  1 wish  you  to  carry  me  into  the  garden  — 
at  once,  Yukiko,  — so  that  1 can  see  it.  . . . Yes, 

1 Yai-^akura,yai-no-sakura,  a variety  of  Japanese  cherry- 
tree  that  bears  double-blossoms. 


Ingfwa-banashi  209 

upon  your  back,  Yukiko;  — take  me  upon  your 
back.  ...” 

While  thus  asking,  her  voice  had  gradually 
become  clear  and  strong,  — as  if  the  intensity  of 
the  wish  had  given  her  new  force : then  she  sud- 
denly burst  into  tears.  Yukiko  knelt  motionless, 
not  knowing  what  to  do;  but  the  lord  nodded 
assent. 

” It  is  her  last  wish  in  this  world,”  he  said. 
“ She  always  loved  cherry-flowers;  and  I know 
that  she  wanted  very  much  to  see  that  Yamato- 
tree  in  blossom.  Come,  my  dear  Yukiko,  let  her 
have  her  will.” 

As  a nurse  turns  her  back  to  a child,  that  the 
child  may  cling  to  it,  Yukiko  offered  her  shoulders 
to  the  wife,  and  said ; — 

“ Lady,  1 am  ready : please  tell  me  how  1 best 
can  help  you.” 

“ Why,  this  way ! ” — responded  the  dying 
woman,  lifting  herself  with  an  almost  super- 
human effort  by  clinging  to  Yukiko’s  shoulders. 
But  as  she  stood  erect,  she  quickly  slipped  her 
thin  hands  down  over  the  shoulders,  under  the 
robe,  and  clutched  the  breasts  of  the  girl,  and 
burst  into  a wicked  laugh. 

14 


210 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

“ I have  my  wish ! ” she  cried  — “ I have  my 
wish  for  the  cherry-bloom,^  — but  not  the  cherry- 
bloom  of  the  garden ! . . . I could  not  die  before 
I got  my  wish.  Now  I have  it!  — oh,  what  a 
delight ! ” 

And  with  these  words  she  fell  forward  upon  the 
crouching  girl,  and  died. 

The  attendants  at  once  attempted  to  lift  the 
body  from  Yukiko’s  shoulders,  and  to  lay  it  upon 
the  bed.  But  — strange  to  say  I — this  seemingly 
easy  thing  could  not  be  done.  The  cold  hands 
had  attached  themselves  in  some  unaccountable 
way  to  the  breasts  of  the  girl,  — appeared  to  have 
grown  into  the  quick  flesh.  Yukiko  became 
senseless  with  fear  and  pain. 

Physicians  were  called.  They  could  not  under- 
stand what  had  taken  place.  By  no  ordinary 
methods  could  the  hands  of  the  dead  woman  be 
unfastened  from  the  body  of  her  victim ; — they 
so  clung  that  any  effort  to  remove  them  brought 
blood.  This  was  not  because  the  fingers  held: 

1 In  Japanese  poetry  and  proverbial  phraseology,  the 
physical  beauty  of  a woman  is  compared  to  the  cherry- 
flower;  while  feminine  moral  beauty  is  compared  to  the 
plum-flower. 


211 


Ingwa-banashi 

it  was  because  the  flesh  of  the  palms  had  united 
itself  in  some  inexplicable  manner  to  the  flesh  of 
the  breasts! 

At  that  time  the  most  skilful  physician  in  Yedo 
was  a foreigner,  — a Dutch  surgeon.  It  was 
decided  to  summon  him.  After  a careful  exam- 
ination he  said  that  he  could  not  understand  the 
case,  and  that  for  the  immediate  relief  of  Yukiko 
there  was  nothing  to  be  done  except  to  cut  the 
hands  from  the  corpse.  He  declared  that  it  would 
be  dangerous  to  attempt  to  detach  them  from  the 
breasts.  His  advice  was  accepted ; and  the  hands 
were  amputated  at  the  wrists.  But  they  remained 
clinging  to  the  breasts ; and  there  they  soon 
darkened  and  dried  up, — like  the  hands  of  a 
person  long  dead. 

Yet  this  was  only  the  beginning  of  the  horror. 

Withered  and  bloodless  though  they  seemed, 
those  hands  were  not  dead.  At  intervals  they 
would  stir  — stealthily,  like  great  grey  spiders. 
And  nightly  therafter,  — beginning  always  at  the 
Hour  of  the  Ox,^  — they  would  clutch  and 

1 In  ancient  Japanese  time,  the  Hour  of  the  Ox  was  the 
special  hour  of  ghosts.  It  began  at  2 a.m.,  and  lasted  until 
4 A.M.  — for  the  old  Japanese  hour  was  double  the  length 
of  the  modern  hour.  The  Hour  of  the  Tiger  began  at  4 A.M. 


212 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

compress  and  torture.  Only  at  the  Hour  of  the 
Tiger  the  pain  would  cease. 

Yukiko  cut  otf  her  hair,  and  became  a mendi- 
cant-nun, — taking  the  religious  name  of  Dassetsu. 
She  had  an  ihai  (mortuary  tablet)  made,  bearing 
the  kaimyo  of  her  dead  mistress,  — “ Myd-Ko-ln~ 
Den  Chiian-Ryd-Fu  Daisbi”;  — and  this  she 
carried  about  with  her  in  all  her  wanderings ; and 
every  day  before  it  she  humbly  besought  the  dead 
for  pardon,  and  performed  a Buddhist  service  in 
order  that  the  jealous  spirit  might  find  rest.  But 
the  evil  karma  that  had  rendered  such  an  affliction 
possible  could  not  soon  be  exhausted.  Every 
night  at  the  Hour  of  the  Ox,  the  hands  never  failed 
to  torture  her,  during  more  than  seventeen  years, 
— according  to  the  testimony  of  those  persons  to 
whom  she  last  told  her  story,  when  she  stopped 
for  one  evening  at  the  house  of  Noguchi  Dengo- 
zayemon,  in  the  village  of  Tanaka  in  the  district 
of  Kawachi  in  the  province  of  Shimotsuke.  This 
was  in  the  third  year  of  Kokwa  (1846).  There- 
after nothing  more  was  ever  heard  of  her. 


Story  of  a Tengu 


Story  of  a Tengu’ 


IN  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Go-Reizei,  there 
was  a holy  priest  living  in  the  temple  of 
Saito,  on  the  mountain  called  Hiyei-Zan, 
near  Kyoto.  One  summer  day  this  good  priest, 
after  a visit  to  the  city,  was  returning  to  his  temple 
by  way  of  Kita-no-Oji,  when  he  saw  some  boys 
ill-treating  a kite.  They  had  caught  the  bird  in 
a snare,  and  were  beating  it  with  sticks.  “ Oh, 
the  poor  creature ! ” compassionately  exclaimed 

1 This  story  may  be  found  in  the  curious  old  Japanese 
book  called  Jikkim-Sbo-  The  same  legend  has  furnished  the 
subject  of  an  interesting  //o-play, called  Dai-E  (“The  Great 
Assembly  ”). 

In  Japanese  popular  art,  the  Tengu  are  commonly  repre- 
sented either  as  winged  men  with  beak-shaped  noses,  or  as 
birds  of  prey.  There  are  different  kinds  of  Tengu ; but  all 
are  supposed  to  be  mountain-haunting  spirits,  capable  of 
assuming  many  forms,  and  occasionally  appearing  as  crows, 
vultures,  or  eagles.  Buddhism  appears  to  class  the  Tengu 
among  the  Marakayikas. 


216  In  Ghostly  Japan 

the  priest;  — “why  do  you  torment  it  so, 
children?”  One  of  the  boys  made  answer:  — 
“ We  want  to  kill  it  to  get  the  feathers.”  Moved 
by  pity,  the  priest  persuaded  the  boys  to  let  him 
have  the  kite  in  exchange  for  a fan  that  he  was 
carrying ; and  he  set  the  bird  free.  It  had  not 
been  seriously  hurt,  and  was  able  to  fly  away. 

Happy  at  having  performed  this  Buddhist  act 
of  merit,  the  priest  then  resumed  his  walk.  He 
had  not  proceeded  very  far  when  he  saw  a strange 
monk  come  out  of  a bamboo-grove  by  the  road- 
side, and  hasten  towards  him.  The  monk  respect- 
fully saluted  him,  and  said : — “ Sir,  through 
your  compassionate  kindness  my  life  has  been 
saved ; and  1 now  desire  to  express  my  gratitude 
in  a fitting  manner.”  Astonished  at  hearing 
himself  thus  addressed,  the  priest  replied:  — 
“ Really,  I cannot  remember  to  have  ever  seen 
you  before : please  tell  me  who  you  are.”  “ It  is 
not  wonderful  that  you  cannot  recognize  me  in 
this  form,”  returned  the  monk:  “ 1 am  the  kite 
that  those  cruel  boys  were  tormenting  at  Kita-no- 
Oji.  You  saved  my  life ; and  there  is  nothing  in 
this  world  more  precious  than  life.  So  I now 
wish  to  return  your  kinaness  in  some  way  or 


217 


Story  of  a Tengu 

other.  If  there  be  anything  that  you  would  like 
to  have,  or  to  know,  or  to  see,  — anything  that  I 
can  do  for  you,  in  short,  — please  to  tell  me  ; for 
as  I happen  to  possess,  in  a small  degree,  the  Six 
Supernatural  Powers,  I am  able  to  gratify  almost 
any  wish  that  you  can  express.”  On  hearing 
these  words,  the  priest  knew  that  he  was  speaking 
with  a Tengu ; and  he  frankly  made  answer : — 
“ My  friend,  I have  long  ceased  to  care  for  the 
things  of  this  world : 1 am  now  seventy  years  of 
age  ; — neither  fame  nor  pleasure  has  any  attraction 
for  me.  I feel  anxious  only  about  my  future 
birth ; but  as  that  is  a matter  in  which  no  one  can 
help  me,  it  were  useless  to  ask  about  it.  Really, 
1 can  think  of  but  one  thing  worth  wishing  for. 
It  has  been  my  life-long  regret  that  I was  not  in 
India  in  the  time  of  the  Lord  Buddha,  and  could 
not  attend  the  great  assembly  on  the  holy  moun- 
tain Gridhrakuta.  Never  a day  passes  in  which 
this  regret  does  not  come  to  me,  in  the  hour  of 
morning  or  of  evening  prayer.  Ah,  my  friend ! 
if  it  were  possible  to  conquer  Time  and  Space, 
like  the  Bodhisattvas,  so  that  1 could  look  upon  that 
marvellous  assembly,  how  happy  should  I be  ! ” 
— “Why,”  the  Tengu  exclaimed,  “that  pious 
wish  of  yours  can  easily  be  satisfied.  I perfectly 


218 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

well  remember  the  assembly  on  the  Vulture  Peak ; 
and  1 can  cause  everything  that  happened  there  to 
reappear  before  you,  exactly  as  it  occurred.  It  is 
our  greatest  delight  to  represent  such  holy  matters. 
. . . Come  this  way  with  me ! ” 

And  the  priest  suffered  himself  to  be  led  to  a 
place  among  pines,  on  the  slope  of  a hill.  “ Now,” 
said  the  Tengu,  “ you  have  only  to  wait  here  for 
awhile,  with  your  eyes  shut.  Do  not  open  them 
until  you  hear  the  voice  of  the  Buddha  preaching 
the  Law.  Then  you  can  look.  But  when  you 
see  the  appearance  of  the  Buddha,  you  must  not 
allow  your  devout  feelings  to  influence  you  in  any 
way ; — you  must  not  bow  down,  nor  pray,  nor 
utter  any  such  exclamation  as,  ‘ Even  so.  Lord  I ’ 
or  ‘ O thou  Blessed  One ! ’ You  must  not  speak 
at  all.  Should  you  make  even  the  least  sign 
of  reverence,  something  very  unfortunate  might 
happen  to  me.”  The  priest  gladly  promised  to 
follow  these  injunctions ; and  the  Tengu  hurried 
away  as  if  to  prepare  the  spectacle. 

The  day  waned  and  passed,  and  the  darkness 
came ; but  the  old  priest  waited  patiently  beneath 
a tree,  keeping  his  eyes  closed.  At  last  a voice 
suddenly  resounded  above  him,  — a wonderful 


219 


Story  of  a Tengu 

voice,  deep  and  clear  like  the  pealing  of  a mighty 
bell,  — the  voice  of  the  Buddha  Sakyamuni  pro- 
claiming the  Perfect  Way.  Then  the  priest, 
opening  his  eyes  in  a great  radiance,  perceived 
that  all  things  had  been  changed : the  place  was 
indeed  the  Vulture  Peak,  — the  holy  Indian 
mountain  Gridhrakuta;  and  the  time  was  the 
time  of  the  Sutra  of  the  Lotos  of  the  Good  Law. 
Now  there  were  no  pines  about  him,  but  strange 
shining  trees  made  of  the  Seven  Precious  Sub- 
stances, with  foliage  and  fruit  of  gems;  — and 
the  ground  was  covered  with  MandSrava  and 
ManjOshaka  flowers  showered  from  heaven ; — 
and  the  night  was  filled  with  fragrance  and  splen- 
dour and  the  sweetness  of  the  great  Voice.  And 
in  mid-air,  shining  as  a moon  above  the  world, 
the  priest  beheld  the  Blessed  One  seated  upon  the 
Lion-throne,  with  Samantabhadra  at  his  right 
hand,  and  Mahjusri  at  his  left,  — and  before  them 
assembled  — immeasurably  spreading  into  Space, 
like  a flood  of  stars  — the  hosts  of  the  Mahasatt- 
vas  and  the  Bodhisattvas  with  their  countlesss 
following ; “ gods,  demons,  Nagas,  goblins,  men, 
and  beings  not  human.”  Sariputra  he  saw,  and 
KSsyapa,  and  Ananda,  with  all  the  disciples  of  the 
TathSgata,  — and  the  Kings  of  the  Devas,  — and 


aeo  In  Ghostly  Japan 

the  Kings  of  the  Four  Directions,  like  pillars  of 
fire,  — and  the  great  Dragon- Kings,  — and  the 
Gandharvas  and  Garudas, — and  the  Gods  of 
the  Sun  and  the  Moon  and  the  Wind,  — and  the 
shining  myriads  of  Brahma’s  heaven.  And 
incomparably  further  than  even  the  measureless 
circling  of  the  glory  of  these,  he  saw  — made 
visible  by  a single  ray  of  light  that  shot  from  the 
forehead  of  the  Blessed  One  to  pierce  beyond 
uttermost  Time  — the  eighteen  hundred  thousand 
Buddha-fields  of  the  Eastern  Quarter  with  all 
their  habitants,  — and  the  beings  in  each  of  the 
Six  States  of  Existence,  — and  even  the  shapes 
of  the  Buddhas  extinct,  that  had  entered  into 
Nirvana.  These,  and  all  the  gods,  and  all  the 
demons,  he  saw  bow  down  before  the  Lion- 
throne  ; and  he  heard  that  multitude  incalculable 
of  beings  praising  the  Sutra  of  the  Lotos  of  the 
Good  Law,  — like  the  roar  of  a sea  before  the 
Lord.  Then  forgetting  utterly  his  pledge,  — fool- 
ishly dreaming  that  he  stood  in  the  very  presence 
of  the  very  Buddha,  — he  cast  himself  down  in 
worship  with  tears  of  love  and  thanksgiving ; 
crying  out  with  a loud  voice,  “ O thou  Blessed 
One 

Instantly  with  a shock  as  of  earthquake  the 


221 


Story  of  a Tengfu 

stupendous  spectacle  disappeared  ; and  the  priest 
found  himself  alone  in  the  dark,  kneeling  upon 
the  grass  of  the  mountain -side.  Then  a sadness 
unspeakable  fell  upon  him,  because  of  the  loss  of 
the  vision,  and  because  of  the  thoughtlessness  that 
had  caused  him  to  break  his  word.  As  he  sor- 
rowfully turned  his  steps  homeward,  the  goblin- 
monk  once  more  appeared  before  him,  and  said 
to  him  in  tones  of  reproach  and  pain : — “ Be- 
cause you  did  not  keep  the  promise  which  you 
made  to  me,  and  heedlessly  allowed  your  feelings 
to  overcome  you,  the  Gohotendo,  who  is  the 
Guardian  of  the  Doctrine,  swooped  down  sud- 
denly from  heaven  upon  us,  and  smote  us  in 
great  anger,  crying  out,  ‘ How  do  ye  dare  thus  to 
deceive  a pious  person  ? ’ Then  the  other  monks, 
whom  I had  assembled,  all  fled  in  fear.  As  for 
myself,  one  of  my  wings  has  been  broken,  — so 
that  now  I cannot  fly.”  And  with  these  words 
the  Tengu  vanished  forever. 


At  Yaidzu 


At  Yaidzu 

I 

UNDER  a bright  sun  the  old  fishing-town  of 
Yaidzu  has  a particular  charm  of  neutral 
color.  Lizard-like  it  takes  the  grey  tints 
of  the  rude  grey  coast  on  which  it  rests,  — curv- 
ing along  a little  bay.  It  is  sheltered  from  heavy 
seas  by  an  extraordinary  rampart  of  boulders. 
This  rampart,  on  the  water-side,  is  built  in  the 
form  of  terrace-steps ; — the  rounded  stones  of 
which  it  is  composed  being  kept  in  position  by 
a sort  of  basket-work  woven  between  rows  of 
stakes  driven  deeply  into  the  ground,  — a sepa- 
rate row  of  stakes  sustaining  each  of  the  grades. 
Looking  landward  from  the  top  of  the  structure, 
your  gaze  ranges  over  the  whole  town,  — a 
broad  space  of  grey-tiled  roofs  and  weather-worn 
grey  timbers,  with  here  and  there  a pine-grove 
IS 


226  In  Ghostly  Japan 

marking  the  place  of  a temple-court.  Seaward, 
over  leagues  of  water,  there  is  a grand  view,  — 
a jagged  blue  range  of  peaks  crowding  sharply 
into  the  horizon,  like  prodigious  amethysts, — 
and  beyond  them,  to  the  left,  the  glorious  spectre 
of  Fuji,  towering  enormously  above  everything. 
Between  sea-wall  and  sea  there  is  no  sand, — only 
a grey  slope  of  stones,  chiefly  boulders;  and 
these  roll  with  the  surf  so  that  it  is  ugly  work 
trying  to  pass  the  breakers  on  a rough  day.  If 
you  once  get  struck  by  a stone- wave,  — as  I 
did  several  times,  — you  will  not  soon  forget  the 
experience. 

At  certain  hours  the  greater  part  of  this  rough 
slope  is  occupied  by  ranks  of  strange-looking 
craft,  — fishing-boats  of  a form  peculiar  to  the 
locality.  They  are  very  large,  — capable  of  carry- 
ing forty  or  fifty  men  each ; — and  they  have 
queer  high  prows,  to  which  Buddhist  or  Shinto 
charms  {mamori  or  sbugo)  are  usually  attached. 
A common  form  of  Shinto  written  charm  (sbugo) 
is  furnished  for  this  purpose  from  the  temple  of 
the  Goddess  of  Fuji : the  text  reads  : — Fuji-san 
cbdjo  Sengen-gu  dai-gyd  man:{oku,  — meaning 
that  the  owner  of  the  boat  pledges  himself,  in  case 
of  good-fortune  at  fishing,  to  perform  great 


At  Yaidzu  227 

austerities  in  honor  of  the  divinity  whose  shrine 
is  upon  the  summit  of  Fuji. 

In  every  coast-province  of  Japan,  — and  even 
at  different  fishing-settlements  of  the  same  prov- 
ince,— the  forms  of  boats  and  fishing-implements 
are  peculiar  to  the  district  or  settlement.  Indeed 
it  will  sometimes  be  found  that  settlements, 
within  a few  miles  of  each  other,  respectively 
manufacture  nets  or  boats  as  dissimilar  in  type 
as  might  be  the  inventions  of  races  living  thou- 
sands of  miles  apart.  This  amazing  variety  may 
be  in  some  degree  due  to  respect  for  local  tradi- 
tion, — to  the  pious  conservatism  that  preserves 
ancestral  teaching  and  custom  unchanged  through 
hundreds  of  years : but  it  is  better  explained  by 
the  fact  that  different  communities  practise  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  fishing;  and  the  shapes  of  the 
nets  or  the  boats  made,  at  any  one  place,  are 
likely  to  prove,  on  investigation,  the  inventions 
of  a special  experience.  The  big  Yaidzu  boats 
illustrate  this  fact.  They  were  devised  according 
to  the  particular  requirements  of  the  Yaidzu-fish- 
ing-industry,  which  supplies  dried  katsuo  (bonito) 
to  all  parts  of  the  Empire  ; and  it  was  necessary 
that  they  should  be  able  to  ride  a very  rough 


228  In  Ghostly  Japan 

sea.  To  get  them  in  or  out  of  the  water  is  a 
heavy  job ; but  the  whole  village  helps.  A kind 
of  slipway  is  improvised  in  a moment  by  laying 
flat  wooden  frames  on  the  slope  in  a line ; and 
over  these  frames  the  flat-bottomed  vessels  are 
hauled  up  or  down  by  means  of  long  ropes.  You 
will  see  a hundred  or  more  persons  thus  engaged 
in  moving  a single  boat, — men,  women,  and 
children  pulling  together,  in  time  to  a curious 
melancholy  chant.  At  the  coming  of  a typhoon, 
the  boats  are  moved  far  back  into  the  streets. 
There  is  plenty  of  fun  in  helping  at  such  work  ; 
and  if  you  are  a stranger,  the  fisher-folk  will 
perhaps  reward  your  pains  by  showing  you  the 
wonders  of  their  sea:  crabs  with  legs  of  aston- 
ishing length,  balloon-fish  that  blow  themselves 
up  in  the  most  absurd  manner,  and  various  other 
creatures  of  shapes  so  extraordinary  that  you  can 
scarcely  believe  them  natural  without  touching 
them. 

The  big  boats  with  holy  texts  at  their  prows  are 
not  the  strangest  objects  on  the  beach.  Even 
more  remarkable  are  the  bait-baskets  of  split 
bamboo,  — baskets  six  feet  high  and  eighteen 
feet  round,  with  one  small  hole  in  the  dome- 


At  Yaidzu 


229 


shaped  top.  Ranged  along  the  sea-wall  to  dry, 
they  might  at  some  distance  be  mistaken  for 
habitations  or  huts  of  some  sort.  Then  you  see 
great  wooden  anchors,  shaped  like  ploughshares, 
and  shod  with  metal ; iron  anchors,  with  four 
flukes ; prodigious  wooden  mallets,  used  for 
driving  stakes ; and  various  other  implements, 
still  more  unfamiliar,  of  which  you  cannot  even 
imagine  the  purpose.  The  indescribable  antique 
queemess  of  everything  gives  you  that  weird 
sensation  of  remoteness,  — of  the  far  away  in 
time  and  place,  — which  makes  one  doubt  the 
reality  of  the  visible.  And  the  life  of  Yaidzu  is 
certainly  the  life  of  many  centuries  ago.  The 
people,  too,  are  the  people  of  Old  Japan : frank 
and  kindly  as  children  — good  children,  — honest 
to  a fault,  innocent  of  the  further  world,  loyal 
to  the  ancient  traditions  and  the  ancient  gods. 


II 

I happened  to  be  at  Yaidzu  during  the  three 
days  of  the  Bon  or  Festival  of  the  Dead  ; and  I 
hoped  to  see  the  beautiful  farewell  ceremony  of 


230  In  Ghostly  Japan 

the  third  and  last  day.  In  many  parts  of  Japan, 
the  ghosts  are  furnished  with  miniature  ships  for 
their  voyage,  — little  models  of  junks  or  fishing- 
craft,  each  containing  offerings  of  food  and  water 
and  kindled  incense  ; also  a tiny  lantern  or  lamp, 
if  the  ghost-ship  be  despatched  at  night.  But  at 
Yaidzu  lanterns  only  are  set  afloat;  and  I was 
told  that  they  would  be  launched  after  dark. 
Midnight  being  the  customary  hour  elsewhere,  I 
supposed  that  it  was  the  hour  of  farewell  at 
Yaidzu  also ; and  I rashly  indulged  in  a nap  after 
supper,  expecting  to  wake  up  in  time  for  the 
spectacle.  But  by  ten  o’clock,  when  1 went  to 
the  beach  again,  all  was  over,  and  everybody 
had  gone  home.  Over  the  water  I saw  some- 
thing like  a long  swarm  of  fire-flies,  — the  lan- 
terns drifting  out  to  sea  in  procession ; but  they 
were  already  too  far  to  be  distinguished  except 
as  points  of  colored  light.  I was  much  disap- 
pointed : I felt  that  I had  lazily  missed  an  oppor- 
tunity which  might  never  again  return,  — for 
these  old  Bon-customs  are  dying  rapidly.  But 
in  another  moment  it  occurred  to  me  that  I could 
very  well  venture  to  swim  out  to  the  lights. 
They  were  moving  slowly.  1 dropped  my  robe 
on  the  beach,  and  plunged  in.  The  sea  was  calm. 


The  Lights  of  the  Dead 


At  Yaidzu 


231 


and  beautifully  phosphorescent.  Every  stroke 
kindled  a stream  of  yellow  fire.  I swam  fast, 
and  overtook  the  last  of  the  lantern-fleet  much 
sooner  than  I had  hoped.  I felt  that  it  would 
be  unkind  to  interfere  with  the  little  embarcations, 
or  to  divert  them  from  their  silent  course : so  I 
contented  myself  with  keeping  close  to  one  of 
them,  and  studying  its  details. 

The  structure  was  very  simple.  The  bottom 
was  a piece  of  thick  plank,  perfectly  square,  and 
measuring  about  ten  inches  across.  Each  one  of 
its  corners  supported  a slender  stick  about  six- 
teen inches  high  ; and  these  four  uprights,  united 
above  by  cross-pieces,  sustained  the  paper  sides. 
Upon  the  point  of  a long  nail,  driven  up  through 
the  centre  of  the  bottom,  was  fixed  a lighted 
candle.  The  top  was  left  open.  The  four  sides 
presented  five  different  colors,  — blue,  yellow, 
red,  white,  and  black ; these  five  colors  respec- 
tively symbolizing  Ether,  Wind,  Fire,  Water, 
and  Earth,  — the  five  Buddhist  elements  which 
are  metaphysically  identified  with  the  Five 
Buddhas.  One  of  the  paper-panes  was  red,  one 
blue,  one  yellow;  and  the  right  half  of  the 
fourth  pane  was  black,  while  the  left  half,  un- 
colored,  represented  white.  No  kaimyo  was 


232  In  Ghostly  Japan 

written  upon  any  of  the  transparencies.  Inside 
the  lantern  there  was  only  the  flickering  candle. 

I watched  those  frail  glowing  shapes  drifting 
through  the  night,  and  ever  as  they  drifted 
scattering,  under  impulse  of  wind  and  wave, 
more  and  more  widely  apart.  Each,  with  its 
quiver  of  color,  seemed  a life  afraid,  — trembling 
on  the  blind  current  that  was  bearing  it  into  the 
outer  blackness.  . . . Are  not  we  ourselves  as 
lanterns  launched  upon  a deeper  and  a dimmer 
sea,  and  ever  separating  further  and  further  one 
from  another  as  we  drift  to  the  inevitable  disso- 
lution.? Soon  the  thought-light  in  each  burns 
itself  out:  then  the  poor  frames,  and  all  that  is 
left  of  their  once  fair  colors,  must  melt  forever 
into  the  colorless  Void.  . . . 

Even  in  the  moment  of  this  musing  1 began  to 
doubt  whether  I was  really  alone,  — to  ask  myself 
whether  there  might  not  be  something  more  than 
a mere  shuddering  of  light  in  the  thing  that 
rocked  beside  me:  some  presence  that  haunted 
the  dying  flame,  and  was  watching  the  watcher. 
A faint  cold  thrill  passed  over  me,  — perhaps 
some  chill  uprising  from  the  depths,  — perhaps 
the  creeping  only  of  a ghostly  fancy.  Old  super- 


At  Yaidzu 


233 


stitions  of  the  coast  recurred  to  me,  — old  vague 
warnings  of  peril  in  the  time  of  the  passage  of 
Souls.  1 reflected  that  were  any  evil  to  befall 
me  out  there  in  the  night,  — meddling,  or  seem- 
ing to  meddle,  with  the  lights  of  the  Dead,  — I 
should  myself  furnish  the  subject  of  some  future 
weird  legend.  ...  I whispered  the  Buddhist  for- 
mula of  farewell  — to  the  lights,  — and  made 
speed  for  shore. 

As  1 touched  the  stones  again,  1 was  startled  by 
seeing  two  white  shadows  before  me;  but  a 
kindly  voice,  asking  if  the  water  was  cold,  set  me 
at  ease.  It  was  the  voice  of  my  old  landlord, 
Otokichi  the  fishseller,  who  had  come  to  look 
for  me,  accompanied  by  his  wife. 

“ Only  pleasantly  cool,”  1 made  answer,  as  I 
threw  on  my  robe  to  go  home  with  them. 

“ Ah,”  said  the  wife,  “ it  is  not  good  to  go  out 
there  on  the  night  of  the  Bon ! ” 

“ I did  not  go  far,”  1 replied ; — “1  only 
wanted  to  look  at  the  lanterns.” 

“ Even  a Kappa  gets  drowned  sometimes,”  ^ 
protested  Otokichi.  “ There  was  a man  of  this 

1 This  is  a common  proverb : — Kappa  mo  ohore-shini. 
The  Kappa  is  a water-goblin,  haunting  rivers  especially. 


234 


In  Ghostly  Japan 

village  who  swam  home  a distance  of  seven  ri, 
in  bad  weather,  after  his  boat  had  been  broken. 
But  he  was  drowned  afterwards.” 

Seven  ri  means  a trifle  less  than  eighteen  miles. 
I asked  if  any  of  the  young  men  now  in  the 
settlement  could  do  as  much. 

“ Probably  some  might,”  the  old  man  replied. 
“ There  are  many  strong  swimmers.  All  swim 
here,  — even  the  little  children.  But  when  fisher- 
folk  swim  like  that,  it  is  only  to  save  their  lives.” 
“ Or  to  make  love,”  the  wife  added,  — “ like 
the  Hashima  girl.” 

“ Who ” queried  1. 

“ A fisherman’s  daughter,”  said  Otokichi. 
“ She  had  a lover  in  Ajiro,  several  ri  distant ; and 
she  used  to  swim  to  him  at  night,  and  swim  back 
in  the  morning.  He  kept  a light  burning  to  guide 
her.  But  one  dark  night  the  light  was  neglected 
— or  blown  out ; and  she  lost  her  way,  and  was 
drowned.  . . . The  story  is  famous  in  Idzu.” 

— “ So,”  1 said  to  myself,  “ in  the  Far  East,  it 
is  poor  Hero  that  does  the  swimming.  And  what, 
under  such  circumstances,  would  have  been  the 
Western  estimate  of  Leander?” 


At  Yaidzu 


23S 


III 

Usually  about  the  time  of  the  Bon,  the  sea  gets 
rough ; and  I was  not  surprised  to  find  next 
morning  that  the  surf  was  running  high.  All 
day  it  grew.  By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
the  waves  had  become  wonderful ; and  1 sat  on 
the  sea-wall,  and  watched  them  until  sundown. 

It  was  a long  slow  rolling,  — massive  and 
formidable.  Sometimes,  just  before  breaking,  a 
towering  swell  would  crack  all  its  green  length 
with  a tinkle  as  of  shivering  glass;  then  would 
fall  and  flatten  with  a peal  that  shook  the  wall 
beneath  me.  ...  1 thought  of  the  great  dead 
Russian  general  who  made  his  army  to  storm  as 
a sea,  — wave  upon  wave  of  steel,  — thunder 
following  thunder.  . . . There  was  yet  scarcely 
any  wind ; but  there  must  have  been  wild  weather 
elsewhere,  — and  the  breakers  were  steadily  height- 
ening. Their  motion  fascinated.  How  indescrib- 
ably complex  such  motion  is,  — yet  how  eternally 
new ! Who  could  fully  describe  even  five  minutes 
of  it No  mortal  ever  saw  two  waves  break  in 
exactly  the  same  way. 


236  In  Ghostly  Japan 

And  probably  no  mortal  ever  watched  the 
ocean-roll  or  heard  its  thunder  without  feeling 
serious.  1 have  noticed  that  even  animals, — 
horses  and  cows,  — become  meditative  in  the 
presence  of  the  sea : they  stand  and  stare  and 
listen  as  if  the  sight  and  sound  of  that  immensity 
made  them  forget  all  else  in  the  world. 

There  is  a folk-saying  of  the  coast : — “ The 
Sea  has  a soul  and  hears”  And  the  meaning  is 
thus  explained : Never  speak  of  your  fear  when 
you  feel  afraid  at  sea ; — if  you  say  that  you  are 
afraid,  the  waves  will  suddenly  rise  higher.  . . . 
Now  this  imagining  seems  to  me  absolutely 
natural.  1 must  confess  that  when  1 am  either 
in  the  sea,  or  upon  it,  I cannot  fully  persuade 
myself  that  it  is  not  alive,  — a conscious  and  a 
hostile  power.  Reason,  for  the  time  being,  avails 
nothing  against  this  fancy.  In  order  to  be  able 
to  think  of  the  sea  as  a mere  body  of  water, 
I must  be  upon  some  height  from  whence  its 
heaviest  billowing  appears  but  a lazy  creeping  of 
tiny  ripples. 

But  the  primitive  fancy  may  be  roused  even 
more  strongly  in  darkness  than  by  daylight. 
How  living  seem  the  smoulderings  and  the  flash- 


At  Yaidzu 


237 


Ings  of  the  tide  on  nights  of  phosphorescence! 

— how  reptilian  the  subtle  shifting  of  the  tints 
of  its  chilly  flame ! Dive  into  such  a night -sea ; 

— open  your  eyes  in  the  black-blue  gloom,  and 
watch  the  weird  gush  of  lights  that  follow  your 
every  motion:  each  luminous  point,  as  seen 
through  the  flood,  like  the  opening  and  closing 
of  an  eye  I At  such  a moment,  one  feels  indeed 
as  if  enveloped  by  some  monstrous  sentiency,  — 
suspended  within  some  vital  substance  that  feels 
and  sees  and  wills  alike  in  every  part,  — an  in- 
finite soft  cold  Ghost. 


IV 

Long  1 lay  awake  that  night,  and  listened  to 
the  thunder-rolls  and  crashings  of  the  mighty 
tide.  Deeper  than  these  distinct  shocks  of  noise, 
and  all  the  storming  of  the  nearer  waves,  was  the 
bass  of  the  further  surf,  — a ceaseless  abysmal 
muttering  to  which  the  building  trembled,  — a 
sound  that  seemed  to  imagination  like  the  sound 
of  the  trampling  of  infinite  cavalry,  the  massing 
of  incalculable  artillery,  — some  rushing,  from  the 
Sunrise,  of  armies  wide  as  the  world. 


238  In  Ghostly  Japan 

Then  I found  myself  thinking  of  the  vague 
terror  with  which  I had  listened,  when  a child, 
to  the  voice  of  the  sea ; — and  I remembered  that 
in  after-years,  on  different  coasts  in  different 
parts  of  the  world,  the  sound  of  surf  had 
always  revived  the  childish  emotion.  Certainly 
this  emotion  was  older  than  I by  thousands  of 
thousands  of  centuries,  — the  inherited  sum  of 
numberless  terrors  ancestral.  But  presently  there 
came  to  me  the  conviction  that  fear  of  the  sea 
alone  could  represent  but  one  element  of  the 
multitudinous  awe  awakened  by  its  voice.  For 
as  1 listened  to  that  wild  tide  of  the  Suruga  coast, 
I could  distinguish  nearly  every  sound  of  fear 
known  to  man : not  merely  noises  of  battle  tre- 
mendous,— of  interminable  volleying,  — of  im- 
measurable  charging,  — but  the  roaring  of  beasts, 
the  crackling  and  hissing  of  fire,  the  rumbling  of 
earthquake,  the  thunder  of  ruin,  and,  above  all 
these,  a clamor  continual  as  of  shrieks  and 
smothered  shoutings, — the  Voices  that  are  said 
to  be  the  voices  of  the  drowned.  Awfulness 
supreme  of  tumult,  — combining  all  imaginable 
echoings  of  fury  and  destruction  and  despair ! 

And  to  myself  I said : — Is  it  wonderful  that 
the  voice  of  the  sea  should  make  us  serious? 


At  Yaidzu 


239 


Consonantly  to  its  multiple  utterance  must  re- 
spond all  waves  of  immemorial  fear  that  move 
in  the  vaster  sea  of  soul -experience.  Deep  calleth 
unto  deep.  The  visible  abyss  calls  to  that  abyss 
invisible  of  elder  being  whose  flood-flow  made 
the  ghosts  of  us. 

Wherefore  there  is  surely  more  than  a little 
truth  in  the  ancient  belief  that  the  speech  of  the 
dead  is  the  roar  of  the  sea.  Truly  the  fear  and 
the  pain  of  the  dead  past  speak  to  us  in  that  dim 
deep  awe  which  the  roar  of  the  sea  awakens. 

But  there  are  sounds  that  move  us  much  more 
profoundly  than  the  voice  of  the  sea  can  do,  and 
in  stranger  ways,  — sounds  that  also  make  us 
serious  at  times,  and  very  serious,  — sounds  of 
music. 

Great  music  is  a psychical  storm,  agitating  to 
unimaginable  depth  the  mystery  of  the  past 
within  us.  Or  we  might  say  that  it  is  a prodi- 
gious incantation,  — every  different  instrument 
and  voice  making  separate  appeal  to  different 
billions  of  prenatal  memories.  There  are  tones 
that  call  up  all  ghosts  of  youth  and  joy  and 
tenderness; — there  are  tones  that  evoke  all 
phantom  pain  of  perished  passion;  — there  are 


240  In  Ghostly  Japan 

tones  that  resurrect  all  dead  sensations  of  maj- 
esty and  might  and  glory,  — all  expired  exulta- 
tions, — all  forgotten  magnanimities.  Well  may 
the  influence  of  music  seem  inexplicable  to  the 
man  who  idly  dreams  that  his  life  began  less 
than  a hundred  years  ago ! But  the  mystery 
lightens  for  whomsoever  learns  that  the  substance 
of  Self  is  older  than  the  sun.  He  finds  that  music 
is  a Necromancy ; — he  feels  that  to  every  ripple 
of  melody,  to  every  billow  of  harmony,  there  an- 
swers within  him,  out  of  the  Sea  of  Death  and 
Birth,  some  eddying  immeasurable  of  ancient 
pleasure  and  pain. 

Pleasure  and  pain : they  commingle  always  in 
great  music;  and  therefore  it  is  that  music  can 
move  us  more  profoundly  than  the  voice  of 
ocean  or  than  any  other  voice  can  do.  But  in 
music’s  larger  utterance  it  is  ever  the  sorrow  that 
makes  the  undertone,  — the  surf-mutter  of  the 
Sea  of  Soul.  . . . Strange  to  think  how  vast  the 
sum  of  joy  and  woe  that  must  have  been  expe- 
rienced before  the  sense  of  music  could  evolve  in 
the  brain  of  man ! 

Somewhere  it  is  said  that  human  life  is  the 
music  of  the  Gods,  — that  its  sobs  and  laughter, 


At  Yaidzu 


241 


its  songs  and  shrieks  and  orisons,  its  outcries  of 
delight  and  of  despair,  rise  never  to  the  hearing 
of  the  Immortals  but  as  a perfect  harmony.  . . . 
Wherefore  they  could  not  desire  to  hush  the 
tones  of  pain  : it  would  spoil  their  music ! The 
combination,  without  the  agony-tones,  would 
prove  a discord  unendurable  to  ears  divine. 

And  in  one  way  we  ourselves  are  as  Gods,  — 
since  it  is  only  the  sum  of  the  pains  and  the  joys 
of  past  lives  innumerable  that  makes  for  us, 
through  memory  organic,  the  ecstasy  of  music. 
All  the  gladness  and  the  grief  of  dead  generations 
come  back  to  haunt  us  in  countless  forms  of 
harmony  and  of  melody.  Even  so,  — a million 
years  after  we  shall  have  ceased  to  view  the  sun, 
— will  the  gladness  and  the  grief  of  our  own 
lives  pass  with  richer  music  into  other  hearts  — 
there  to  bestir,  for  one  mysterious  moment,  some 
deep  and  exquisite  thrilling  of  voluptuous  pain. 


i6 


Exotics  and  Retrospectives 


By  Lafcadio  Hearn,  Lecturer  on  English  Litera- 
ture in  the  Imperial  University,  Tokyo,  author 
of  “ In  Ghostly  Japan,”  “ Out  of  the  East,” 
“ Glimpses  of  Unfamiliar  Japan,”  etc.  Illustrated. 
16mo.  Cloth,  gilt  top.  $2.00. 


CONTENTS 

Exotics 


FUJI-NO-YAMA. 

INSECT-MUSICIANS. 

A QUESTION  IN  THE  ZEN 
TEXTS. 

BUDDHIST  LITERATURE  OF 
THE  DEAD. 

FROGS. 

OF  MOON-DESIRE. 


Retrospectives 
FIRST  IMPRESSIONS. 
BEAUTY  IS  MEMORY. 
SADNESS  IN  BEAUTY. 
PARFUM  DE  JEUNESSE. 
AZURE  PSYCHOLOGY. 

A SERENADE. 

A RED  SUNSET. 

FRISSON. 

VESPERTINA  COGNITIO. 
THE  ETERNAL  HAUNTERS. 


If  one  were  to  attempt  any  adequate  quotation,  he  would 
quote  the  entire  book.  It  is  one  to  be  lived  v/Wh.  — Lilian 
IVbiting,  in  the  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

It  has  the  deep  azure  coloring  of  Fuji-San,  the  sacred  moun- 
tain; it  utters  the  chirping  note  of  Suzumushi,  the  caged 
insect;  it  is  as  melodious  as  Kajika,  the  singing  frog,  and  is 
altogether  lovely. — Literary  IVorld. 

Full  of  that  wonderful  power  of  vivid  portrayal  and  of 
poetic  fancy  that  makes  his  work  always  unique.  — New 
Orleans  Picayune. 


EXOTICS  AND  RETROSPECTIVES  — Cbnfmaecf 

No  foreigner  in  Japan  has  apparently  got  closer  to  the 
people  than  Mr.  Lafcadio  Hearn.  . . . The  part  of  the  book 
which  seems  to  us  most  valuable  contains  interesting  descrip- 
tions of  curious  Japanese  customs,  especially  their  use  of 
caged  insects  as  music-makers.  These  insects  are  figured  in 
the  text  with  a running  account  of  the  literature  made  about 
them.  Many  bits  of  translation  from  the  works  of  Japanese 
poets,  old  or  recent,  add  to  the  interest. — The  Independent. 

Readers  who  care  for  the  essence  of  poetic  feeling  will  find 
it  in  this  paper  on  “ Insect-Musicians,”  and  in  a shorter  one 
on  “ Frogs.”  — New  Yoi  k Mail  and  Express. 

Undoubtedly  the  chief  charm  of  these  exquisite  bits  of  prose 
poetry  [the  Exotics]  lies  in  the  daring  originality  of  the  fancies 
expressed.  Where,  for  instance,  is  there  a description  of  the 
ascent  of  Fuji  that  can  compare  with  Professor  Hearn’s 
“ Fu]i-no-Yama  ” ? — Public  Opinion. 

If  Mr.  Hearn  were  not  generally  considered  above  criticism 
and  if  it  were  not  a delight  and  a genuine  privilege  to  get  hold 
of  anything  of  his  under  any  circumstances,  we  should  express 
a regret  that  he  had  not  given  us  a little  more  of  Japan.  — 
Chicago  Times-Herald. 

The  “ Exotics,”  with  the  exception  of  “ Moon-Desire,”  are 
less  fascinating  than  the  “ Retrospectives.”  Even  Mr.  Hearn 
cannot  well  make  a single  country  as  interesting  as  all  space 
and  time,  but  his  description  of  the  ascent  of  “ Fuji-no-Yama  ” 
and  of  the  wondrous  view;  the  paper  on  “ Insect-Musicians,” 
the  “ Question  in  the  Zen  Texts,”  a conundrum  much  finer 
than  “ The  Lady  and  the  Tiger ; ” “ Frogs,”  and  “ The  Litera- 
ture of  the  Dead,”  are  such  as  no  one  else  could  have  written. 
— New  York  Times. 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  & CO.,  Publishers 

2^4  Washington  Street,  Boston 


DS821 .H43 
In  ghostly  Japan, 

Princeton  Theological  Semmary-Speer  Library 


1 1012  00042  5977 


